THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


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^^ 


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MEMOIRS 


THE  LIFE  AND  MINISTRY 


REV.  JOHN  SUMMERFIELD,  A.M. 


BY    JOHN    HOLLAND. 


AN   INTRODUCTORY  LETTER 

BY   JAMES    MONTGOMERY. 


ABRIDGED,  WITH  ADDITIONAL  LETTERS  AND  REMINISCENCES. 


PUBLISHED    BY   THE 
AMERICAN    TRACT    SOCIETY, 

150  NASSAU-STREET,   NEW  YORK. 


Entered  itccoiding  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1850,  by 
JAMES   BLACKSTOCK, 
in  the  Clerk's  Olnce  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the  South- 
ern District  of  New  York. 

Right  of  publishing  transferred  to  the  American  Tract  Society. 


7^"  Ay/ 


The  Memoir  of  Summerfiekl,  whose  name  is  embalmed 
in  the  hearts  of  the  people  of  God,  has  hitherto  been  issued 
in  a  handsome  octavo  stereotype  edition,  to  which,  in  1846, 
"Additional  Letters"  and  "Reminiscences"  were  added, 
which  swelled  the  volume  to  a  size  beyond  the  reach  of 
many  who  have  wished  to  possess  it.  In  the  hope  of  ren 
dering  an  acceptable  service  to  thousands  of  families,  the 
proprietor  of  the  work,  in  behalf  of  the  surviving  relatives 
of  Summerfield,  besides  still  issuing  it  entire  in  the  larger 
size,  is  gratified  to  present  it  to  the  Christian  public  in  the 
present  form.  This  volume  contains  the  Memoir  by  Mr. 
Holland,  with  the  omission  of  some  parts  which  seemed  to 
be  of  less  interest  to  the  general  reader,  indicated  by  *  *  * ; 
and  the  insertion,  chiefly  from  the  enlarged  edition,  of  about 
thirty  spiritual  and  eminently  characteristic  letters  of  Sum- 
merfield, together  with  most  of  the  "Reminiscences"  and 
some  additional  matter,  no  part  of  which  additions  was  in 
the  hands  of  the  author  when  the  work  was  originally  pre- 
pared. These  letters,  for  the  convenience  of  the  reader,  are 
inserted  in  the  Memoir  in  the  order  of  time,  commencing 
on  pages  88,  92,  102,  131,  144,  146,  154,  159,  163,  165, 
166,  167,  188,  191,  192,  207,  215,  218,  221,  223,  225, 
231,  233,  234,  240,  247,  250,  256,  258,  260,  261.  The 
preface  now  consists  solely  of  the  admirable  Introductory 
Letter  of  the  poet  Montgomery ;  and  the  whole  has  been 
revised  while  passing  through  the  press,  and  is  commended 
to  the  grace  and  blessing  of  that  God  whom  Summerfield 
delighted  to  serve. 


i.\nriri 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    I  PAGE. 

Mr.  Summerfield's  parentage,  birth,  and  education — G-oes  to  reside  at  Liver- 
pool— Remarkable  dream, 11 

CHAPTER   II. 

Removal  to  Dublin — Falls  into  dissipated  habits — Occasional  contrition — Cor- 
respondence with  Dr.  Raffles — Thinks  of  entering  the  ministry  among  the 
dissenters — Goes  into  business — Fresh  irregularities — Attends  the  courts 
of  law, 21 

CHAPTER   III. 

His  conversion — Attends  prayer-meetings — Interesting  letter  to  his  class 
leader,   31 

CHAPTER   IV. 

Begins  to  keep  a  diary — Attends  Sunday-schools — Gives  an  exhortation — In- 
cessantly studies  the  holy  Scriptures — Attends  an  Irish  wake — Filial  obe- 
dience— Falls  into  temptation,    41 

CHAPTER   V. 

Studies  incessantly — Thinks  about  the  Christian  ministry — Health  very  deli- 
cate— Religious  experience — Ardent  piety, 50 

CHAPTER   VI. 

Received  as  a  local  preacher — Spiritual  exercises — Visits  for  the  "  Strangers' 
Friend  Society" — Anxieties  about  his  ministerial  call — Excessive  fasting 
— Removal  to  Cork — Entire  devotedness  to  God, 60 

CHAPTER   VII. 

Summerfield  becomes  a  popular  preacher — Preaches  almost  incessantly — Min- 
isterial anxieties — Travels  and  addresses  large  auditories  in  Ireland  with 
great  success, 70 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

Returns  to  Dublin — Popularity  increases — Dedicates  himself  afresh  to  God — 
Visits  Cork — His  fervor — Letter  to  his  sister — Falls  from  his  horse — Abun- 
dance of  his  labors — Letter  to  Rev.  Edward  Cobain — Receives  a  confer- 
ence appointment — Missionary  speech,    79 

CHAPTER    IX. 

Religious  experience — Resolves  to  avoid  tea-parties — Preaches  at  the  request 
of  the  Earl  of  Rosse — A  dangerous  illness — Letter  to  his  sister — Resumes 
his  labors,  and  addresses  large  congregations — Exercises  of  spirit — Loyalty 
— Anxious  to  visit  England, 07 


G  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   X. 

Arrives  in  EngliinJ  and  preaclies  at  Bristol — Exeter — Attends  conference  sit 
Liverpool — Entertains  thoughts  of  going  to  America — Embarks  for  New 
York, IIG 

CHAPTER   XI. 

Summerfield  arrives  at  New  York — Eloquent  speech — Stationed  at  New 
York — Speech — Unprecedented  popularity — Addresses  children — Letters 
— Newspaper  notices — Lnmense  audiences^  at  AYashington — Preaches  in 
front  of  the  capitol — Affection  of  his  friends — Letters — Present  of  a  coat — 
Affecting  sermon,   I'il 

CHAPTER   XII. 

Ordained  deacon — Violent  illness — Dictates  a  testamentary  paper — Recovers 
slowly — Public  anxiety — Letters — Visits  New  Jersey — Created  Master  of 
Arts — Letters, I  "il 

CHAPTER   XIII. 

Sails  for  Frniioe — Interesting  letters  from  Marseilles, 16!) 

CHAPTER   XIV. 

Writes  to  the  Young  Men's  Missionary  Society — Paris — Speeeh  at  the  meet- 
ing of  the  Protestant  Bible  Society  of  France — Letters  from  Paris,-  •  201 

-    CHAPTER  XV. 

Arrives  in  England — Fairfield — Preaches  at  Liverpool — Letters — Attends  the 
conference  at  Sheffield — Visits  many  other  places — His  health  but  little 
improved — Portrait — Letters.  211 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Rettirns  to  America — Letters — Attends  the  Baltimore  conference — Ordained 
an  elder — Appointed  a  missionary  within  the  bounds  of  Baltimore  confer- 
ence— Letter  to  England — Extracts  from  diary — Collections  for  the  Mis- 
sionary Society — At  Baltimore  in  extreme  debility, 230 

CHAPTER   XVII. 

Extracts  from  diary — Letters — Extempore  preaching — Letters — Return  to 
New  fork — Address  at  the  formation  of  the  American  Tract  Society — 
Last  illness — Death-bed  expressions — Dies  in  the  Lord — Public  sympathy 
— Funeral — Monumental  inscriptions, 244 

CHAPTER   XVIII. 

Greneral  concluding  observations, 273 

REMINISCENCES. 

By  the  Rev.  Dr.  Bond— By  the  Rev.  Dr.  Matthew  Richey— By  Marijius  Wil- 
lett,  M.  D. — Letter  from  Bishop  H.  B.  Bascom — Recollecliions  by  Mrs. 
Creagh— By  the  Rev.  Joshua  N.  Danforth— By  the  Rev.  W.  M.  Willett— 
Letter  from  Bishop  Emory — Recollections  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  George  W.  Be- 
thnne — From  an  article  by  Rev.  Dr.  James  W.  Alexander,  Princeton.  N.  .T. 
— From  a  student  at  law — From  a  theological  student^From  a  Lady — 
From  Rev.  Dr.  Townley,  of  London — From  Rev.  Dr.  Nevins — Recollections 
of  Summerfield's  father  and  mother  by  his  eldest  sister, 280 

"  Summprfield,'"  by  AYilli;iiu  P.  Ttipp.in,  Esq., ■!'.•! 


INTRODUCTORY   LETTER 

BY  THE   POET  MONTGOMERY. 


"  To  Mr.   John  Holland. 

"  Dear  Friend — When  I  named  you  to  the  relatives  of 
the  late  E.ev.  John  Sunitnerlield,  as  a  proper  person  to  pre- 
pare a  memoir  of  that  minister  extraordinary  of  the  gospel, 
I  was  perfectly  aware  of  the  responsibility  which  I  thereby 
incurred  ;  but  I  was  also  so  well  satisfied  with  x-espect  to 
your  qualifications,  that  I  gladly  trusted  my  credit  on  your 
performance  of  the  task.  I  now  thank  you  sincerely  for 
having,  most  promptly  and  efiectually,  redeemed  the  pledge 
which  I  laid  down  for  you.  Without  binding  myself  to 
subscribe  implicitly  to  every  sentiment,  or  to  approve  of 
every  form  of  expression  in  it,  I  can  say,  after  an  attentive 
perusal  of  the  manuscript,  that  according  to  my  best  judg- 
ment you  have  done  justice  to  the  subject,  honor  to  your- 
self, and  service  to  the  church  on  earth,  by  presenting  one 
trophy  more  of  the  power  of  the  religion  of  Jesus  out  of 
weakness  to  perfect  strength,  and  by  instruments  such  as 
God  alone  coiold  make,  and  such  as  he  alone  vjould  use,  to 
work  miracles  of  mercy  in  converting  sinners  from  the  error 
of  their  ways,  saving  souls  from  death,  and  covering  a  mul- 
titude of  sins. 

"  You  know,  that  before  I  put  the  multifarious  mate- 
rials for  the  intended  work  into  your  hands,  I  had  dili- 
gently examined  the  whole,  both  for  my  own  satisfaction 
and  that  I  might  be  prepared  to  afibrd  you  any  counsel  or 
assistance  in  my  power,  which  you  might  require,  in  the 
prosecution  of  your  interesting  but  by  no  means  easy  labors. 


8  INTRODUCTORY   LETTER. 

I  confess  now,  that  while  my  willing  persuasion  of  the  ar- 
dent piety,  the  remarkable  gifts,  and  the  amazing  influence 
of  the  preaching  of  this  young  apostle  upon  hearers  of  all 
classes,  was  abundantly  confirmed  as  I  proceeded,  my  sense 
of  the  difficulty  of  exhibiting  a  portrait  of  the  deceased, 
nearly  corresponding  with  the  recollections  of  the  living 
minister  in  the  hearts  of  aflectionate  kindred  and  friends, 
but  especially  of  giving  to  those  who  knew  him  not,  an  idea 
which  should  justify  in  their  esteem  the  praises  that  have 
been  lavished  upon  him — my  sense  of  the  difficulty  of  doing 
this  was  greatly  increased  as  I  went  along  and  found 
among  his  remains  few  traces  of  lofty  intellect,  powerful 
imagination,  or  touching  pathos ;  such  as  w^ould  naturally 
be  expected  in  the  productions  of  a  youth  so  early  and 
.enthusiastically  followed  and  applauded.  But  the  bulk  of 
these,  being  mere  journals  of  daily  incidents,  often  .very 
minute,  and  of  heart-experience,  never  colored  either  under 
or  above  present  feeling,  the  whole  intended  for  his  own  eye 
only,  and  noted  down  under  the  eye  of  his  Master,  as  though 
the  running  title  of  his  pages  had  been,  '  Thou,  God,  seest 
me,'  the  absence  of  all  curious  and  elaborate  composition,  is 
a  test  of  the  genuineness  of  the  records  themselves,  and 
rather  to  the  credit  than  the  disparagement  of  his  genius. 

"  In  his  sermons,  however,  something  of  the  character 
of  elegant  literature  might  be  required,  and  would  be  in 
place  ;  because  the  utter  inartificiality  which,  in  his  memo- 
rabilia of  hourly  occurrences,  was  a  merit,  would  have  been 
a  defect  here.  Accordingly  I  went  with  critical  scrutiny, 
through  nearly  two  hundred  sketches  of  these,  in  his  own 
handwriting;  and  I  give  it  as  my  deliberate  conviction, 
that  though  they  were  very  unlike  what  1  had  anticipated 
from  a  fervent,  fearless,  self-sacrificing  preacher,  the  delight 
of  wondering,  weeping,  and  admiring  audiences  wherever 
he  went,  they  were,  in   one  main    respect,  far  superior; 


INTRODUCTORY  LETTER.  f- 

being  calculated  less  for  instant  effect,  than  for  abiding  use- 
fulness. Though  but  studies,  they  are  nevertheless  exceed- 
ingly methodical  in  plan  ;  and  in  execution  they  .are  distin- 
guished chiefly  by  sound  doctrine,  exact  judgment,  and  severe 
abstinence  from  ornament.  Such  ornament,  however,  as  does 
occur,  is  often  exquisite ;  and  from  being  occasionally  inter- 
polated— as  after-thoughts — I  cannot  doubt,  that  in  uttering 
these  condensed  compositions  at  spontaneous  length,  illustra- 
tions the  most  lively  and  beautiful  sprang  in  like  manner  out 
of  the  subject,  when  the  preacher  himself  was  full  to  over- 
flowing, yet  filling  the  faster  the  more  he  overflowed. 

"And  this  was  the  right  kind  of  preparation  for  one 
who  always  had  words  at  command,  but  whose  feelings 
commanded  hhn.  He  came  to  the  pulpit  with  the  whole 
scheme  of  his  discourse  clearly  and  succinctly  marked  out  in 
his  mind.  Then,  when  he  was  indeed  '  in  the  spirit,'  warm- 
ed, exalted,  and  inspired  with  the  divinity  of  his  theme,  the 
chain  of  premeditated  ideas,  link  by  link,  in  seemingly  ex- 
temporaneous succession,  would  be  developed  ;  while  every 
thought,  emotion,  and  appeal,  would  body  itself  forth  in  the 
most  vivid  and  appropriate  language.  Then  truly  would 
his  bow  abide  in  strength,  and  every  shaft  which  he  sent 
I'rom  the  string,  like  the  arrow  of  Acestes  of  old,  would  take 
fire  in  its  flight,  shine  through  the  clouds,  and  vanish  in  the 
immensity  of  heaven.      Virg.  JEn.,  lib.  5,  1.  525-8. 

"  But  as  the  Sabbath  and  the  sanctuary  were  the  day 
and  the  place  of  resurrection,  when  his  closet  skeletons, 
liius  clothed  upon,  became  living,  breathing,  speaking  ora- 
cles, the  retrogression  into  their  original  forms  would  be 
proportionately  to  the  preacher's  disadvantage.  Hearers, 
who  had  been  rapt  towards  the  third  heaven  in  the  fiery 
chariot  of  his  delivery,  and  almost  seemed  to  hear  '  things 
which  it  was  not  lawful  for  man  to  utter,'  when  they  after- 
wards became  readers  at  home  of  the  few  faint  outlines, 

1* 


10  INTROUUCTURY  LETTER. 

however  symmetrical  and  harmonious,  would  scarcely  rec- 
ognize their  shadowy  resemblance  to  the  glorious  apparitions 
which  had  gone  by,  never  to  be  reirewed  except  with  the 
presence,  the  eye,  and  the  voice  of  the  preacher  himself. 
In  fact,  every  attempt  to  present  on  paper  the  splendid 
effects  of  impassioned  eloquence,  is  like  gathering  up  dew- 
drops,  which  appear  jewels  and  pearls  on  the  grass,  but  run 
to  water  in  the  hand  ;  the  essence  and  the  elements  remain, 
but  the  grace,  the  sparkle,  and  the  form  are  gone. 

"  But  Summerfield's  memory  needs  no  monument  of  his 
handywork  to  endear  and  perpetuate  it ;  nor  is  it  any  dero- 
gation from  his  talents  to  say,  that  he  has  left  no  posthu- 
mous proofs  of  their  power,  to  divide  with  his  Maker  the 
glory  of  what  God  was  pleased  to  do  by  him,  in  the  faithful 
exercise  of  them.  Brief  indeed  was  his  career,  but  brilliant 
and  triumphant.  Like  one  of  the  racers  in  that  ancient 
game,  wherein  he  who  ran  with  the  greatest  speed,  carry- 
ing a  blazing  torch  unextinguished  to  the  goal,  was  crown- 
ed as  victor,  he  so  ran  that  he  soon  obtained  the  prize ;  and 
his  light,  not  extinct  even  in  death,  but  borne  again  in 
your  hand,  my  dear  friend,  along  the  same  path,  while  you 
retrace  the  Lord's  dealings  with  him  through  his  swift  and 
shining  course,  shall  be  a  guide,  a  comfort,  and  an  example 
to  thousands  who  never  witnessed  its  living  coruscations. 

"  I  do  now,  therefore,  not  less  heartily  recommend  your 
little  volume — the  more  precious,  because  it  is  a  little  one — 
to  the  Christian  public  as  worthy  of  their  acceptance,  than 
on  the  former  occasion  I  conscientiously  recommended  your- 
self to  the  esteemed  relatives  of  the  deceased,  as  Avorthy  to 
be  his  biographer. 

"  I  am,  faithfully  and  affectionately, 
"  Your  friend, 

"JAMES  MONTaOMERY." 
"  Sheffield,  March  30,  1829." 


M  E  M  O  I  R'S 


REV.  JOHN  SUMMERFIELD 


CHAPTER   I. 


MR.  SUMMERFIELD'S  PARENTAGE,  BIRTH,  AND  EDUCATION— GOES 
TO  RESIDE  AT  LIVERPOOL— REMARKABLE  DREAM. 

Although  accounts  of  the  parentage  of  a  saint  of  the 
Most  High,  unless  connected  with  some  very  pecuhar  cir- 
cumstances, are  generally  uninteresting,  yet  it  may  not  be 
improper,  in  the  instance  before  us,  to  record  the  following 
brief  particulars. 

"William  Summerfield,  the  father  of  that  excellent  min- 
ister, the  particulars  of  whose  life  I  am  about  to  narrate, 
was  born  in  Devonshire,  April  12,  1770.  *  *  *  At  an  early 
period  of  his  life,  he  was  engaged  as  a  millwright  near 
"Wakefield,  Yorkshire.  While  in  this  situation,  he  became 
acquainted  with  Miss  Amelia  Depledge,  who,  at  the  period 
in  question,  lived  in  the  same  neighborhood.  In  a  short 
time  they  were  married,  and  resided  thenceforward  about 
two  years  near  Bretton.  They  then  removed  to  Manchester, 
where  Mr.  Summerfield  was  engaged,  during  a  residence  of 
about  four  years,  as  foreman  to  a  considerable  machine  man- 
ufactory. 

Here  an  event  occurred  of  infinite  importance  to  himself, 
and  doubtless,  in  the  issue,  to  many  others  who  subsequently 


12  REV.    JOHN    SUMMERFIELD. 

came  within  the  sphere  of  his  influence,  which,  from  the 
natural  vigor  of  his  mind,  was  far  from  being  inconsiderable. 
He  began  to  attend  the  preaching  of  the  Wesleyan  Method^ 
ists  ;  joined  the  society,  and  in  a  short  time  experienced  a 
scriptural  conversion  ;  which  he  attributed  mediately  to  im- 
pressions received  under  the  preaching  of  the  Rev.  Joseph 
Benson,  at  that  time  stationed  in  Manchester.  This  great 
religious  change  is  said  to  have  taken  place  when  he  was 
about  twenty-one  years  of  age.  From  that  period  he  be- 
came a  zealous  disciple  of  his  divine  Lord  and  Master,  and 
continued  to  evince  the  ardor  and  sincerity  of  his  religious 
profession  to  the  end  of  his  life — a  life  w'hlch  was  chequered 
with  more  than  an  ordinary  share  of  trials  and  vicissitudes, 
the  minuter  details  of  which  would  be  here  entirely  out  of 
place. 

It  may,  however,  be  observed  without  impropriety,  that 
William  Summerfleld  was  one  of  those  men  whose  sanguine 
temperaments  and  projecting  minds  are  more  likely  to  lead 
tliem  to  engage  in  plausible  speculations,  than  to  incline 
them  to  advance  their  fortunes  by  the  slow  process  of  unin- 
ventive  assiduity.  Lancashire  was  at  this  time  exhibiting 
the  earlier  efl'eets  of  that  daring  spirit  of  mechanical  enter- 
prise which  has,  almost  as  it  Avere  by  tlie  power  of  ma- 
chinery, transplanted  successful  experimentalists  from  the 
poverty  of  paupers  into  the  opulence  of  princes.  Few  men 
of  persevering  genius  and  common  industry  could  witness 
what  was  then  taking  place  around  them,  without  thinking 
that  they  might,  nor  perhaps  indeed  without  feeling  that 
1  hey  ought  to  attempt  the  achievement  of  some  such  envied 
distinction. 

After  remaining  some  time  with  his  employers  in  Man- 
chester, WiUiam  Summerfleld  removed  with  his  family  to 
Preston  abov;t  1797.  Here  he  commenced  business  as  an 
engineer  and  iron-founder,  with  every  prospect  of  rising  to 
opulence.     He  was  highly  respected  by  all  who  knew  him. 


HIS   CHILDHOOD.  13 

both  as  a  tradesman  and  as  a  member  of  the  Methodist 
society ;  in  connection  with  which  body  he  now  acted  as  a 
local  preacher :  he  was,  indeed,  particularly  distinguished 
for  the  livehness  of  his  faith,  his  continuing  instant  in  prayer, 
and  an  almost  unexampled  spirit  of  self-denial. 

After  experieneing  various  reverses  of  fortune,  arising 
partly  from  the  common  casualties  of  business,  and  partly 
from  being  outwitted  by  partners,  his  affairs,  at  a  time  when 
he  had  reason  to  think  himself  wealthy,  became  deranged  ; 
so  that  on  the  breaking  up  of  an  establishment  and  connec- 
tion upon  which  he  had  reasonably,  but  mistakenly,  i-eposed 
his  all,  he  left  Preston,  and  after  residing  about  two  years 
in  Burslem,  Staffordshire,  and  a  short  time  in  Liverpool, 
went  to  Ireland  in  1812,  where  he  successively  filled  situa- 
tions of  trust  in  Dublin  and  Cork.  After  a  few  years,  he 
emigrated  with  his  family  to  New  York,  in  the  United  States 
of  America,  where  his  eldest  daughter  had  been  some  time 
settled  with  her  husband  Mr.  Blackstock,  a  respectable  cot- 
ton-broker in  that  city.  In  the  house  of  this  exemplary  son- 
in-law,  where  he  had  long  found  a  home,  and  soothed  by 
the  affectionate  attentions  of  all  his  surviving  children,  he 
expired,  the  victim  of  a  violent  dysentery,  Sept.  19,  1825, 
aged  55.  As  his  life  had  been  characterized  by  eminent 
religious  profession,  so  his  death  Avas  not  only  satisfactory, 
but  in  the  estimation  of  his  friends,  one  of  the  most  trium- 
phant ever  Avitnessed.  His  sufl"erings  during  the  last  twelve 
hours  were  exceedingly  acute ;  but  in  the  midst  of  these 
most  trying  moments  his  faith  faltered  not :  he  cried  out, 
"  I  have  an  unshaken  confidence."  His  frame  of  mind  for 
several  days  before  his  death  was  happy  beyond  descrip- 
tion— bringing,  in  the  expressive  phrase  of  his  attendants, 
"  heaven  upon  earth."  A  few  nights  previous  to  his  de- 
partnre,  his  daughter  Amelia  was  awoke  by  his  talking  . 
aloud  in  his  sleep,  as  with  his  beloved  son  John,  the  subject 
of  this  memoir.      Being  interrogated  on   the  subject,   he 


14  REV.   JOHN    SUMMEE.F1ELD. 

replied,  "  John  and  I  had  much  to  do  together."  To  the 
foregoing  testimony  the  writer  of  these  pages  has  the  grati- 
fication of  being  enabled  to  add,  that  Avhen  he  visited  Preston 
'in  1828,  he  did  not  converse  with  a  single  individual  who  did 
not  accord  a  prompt^cknowledgmeut  of  the  religious  charac- 
ter and  moral  worth  of  his  former  friend  and  townsman. 

Of  the  persoiial  accomplishments  and  Christian  experi- 
ence of  his  mother,  I  am  unable  to  speak,  beyond  the  gen- 
eral fact  that  she  was  a  pious  woman.  She  died  in  Liver- 
pool, whither  she  had  removed  for  the  benefit  of  her  health, 
on  the  9th  of  August,  1811;  leaving  with  her  friends  a 
gratifying  assurance  that  in  her  departure  from  this  life  she 
was  gone  to  that  Jesus  whom  her  soul  loved.  Her  remains 
lie  buried  in  St.  Paul's  churchyard,  in  that  town. 

William  and  Amelia  Summerfield  were  the  parents  of 
nine  children,  five  sons  and  four  daughters,  three  of  whom 
died  in  their  infancy. 

John,  the  subject  of  these  memoirs,  was  born  at  Preston, 
in  Lancashire,  January  31,  1798.  Previously  to  the  birth 
of  this  child  his  father  had  frequently  been  heard  to  say,  that 
there  was  nothing  that  he  desired  more  in  early  life,  than 
that  he  should  have  a  son  ;  that  that  son  should  be  a  min- 
ister of  the  gospel ;  and  that  his  name  should  be  called 
John.  And  truly,  as  he  and  his  wife,  like  Zacharias  and 
Elizabeth  of  old,  "were  both  righteous  before  God,  walking 
in  all  the  commandments  and  ordinances  of  the  Lord  blame- 
less," so  likewise  his  prayer  was  heard — a  man-child  was 
born  ;  and  his  father,  in  the  spirit  of  the  venerable  priest  of 
Jerusalem,  "praised  God"  that  he  had  given  him  a  son. 
And  it  is  w^orthy  of  remark,  that  at  the  time  of  the  birth  of 
the  babe,  his  father  solemnly  dedicated  him  to  the  tcorh 
of  the  ministry.  How  far,  when  in  after-life  "he  was  filled 
with  the  Holy  Ghost,"  he  imitated  his  evangehcal  namesake 
in  "preaching  the  baptism  of  repentance  for  the  remission 
of  sins,"  resembling  him  as  he  did  in  being  dedicated  to  the 


HIS   CHILDHOOD.  15 

Lord  "even  from  the  womb/'  the  history  of  his  ministerial 
liie  must  testify. 

John  was  an  exceedingly  intei'esting  and  amiable  child. 
At  five  years  of  age  he  was  sent  to  school,  where  he  had 
not  been  twelve  months  before  he  was  accounted  the  best 
reader ;  and  his  teacher  was  so  proud  of  him  that  she  fre- 
quently pointed  to  him  as  an  example  for  the  other  children 
to  imitate.  He  was  much  caressed  and  complimented  by 
strangers  as  well  as  friends,  and  his  manners  were  so  pleas- 
ing that  they  always  attracted  attention  :  yet  he  was  not 
in  the  slightest  degree  a  spoiled  child ;  for  however  much 
indulged,  it  appeared  to  have  no  bad  effect  upon  him.  He 
was  so  remarkably  sensitive,  that  he  could  not  bear  to  see 
his  brothers  or  sisters  corrected. 

When  about  six  years  old,  he  was  sent  to  school  with 
his  sister,  aged  about  eight,  to  a  pious  Methodist  lady,  about 
twenty  miles  from  home.  This  was  the  first  time  they  had 
been  separated  from  their  parents,  and  was  tbe  occasion  of 
much  distress  to  his  sister  ;  but  John,  who  had  not  only  a 
happy  method  of  restraining  his  own  feelings,  but  likewise 
of  administering  comfort  to  others,  addressed  her  in  a  style 
rather  of  manly  than  juvenile  consolation.  "Ellen,"  he 
would  say,  when  his  sister  began  to  weep,  "  Ellen,  I  really 
am  astonished  at  you ;  you  know  that  our  father  sent  us 
here  for  our  good ;  but  if  you  fret  and  grieve  so,  you  will 
make  yourself  ill,  and  then  you  wont  be  able  to  learn  any 
thing.  And  think  how  sorry  our  mother  would  feel,  and 
how  disappointed  she  would  be,  if  she  were  to  knoy.  You 
ought  to  be  more  of  a  woman ;  besides,  Mrs.  Campbell 
would  be  displeased,  should  she  see  you."  Such  were  the 
reasonings  of  the  child,  whose  engaging  manners  made  him 
almost  the  idol  of  the  family ;  and  who,  when  Mrs.  Camp- 
bell was  at  prayer,  would  clasp  his  little  hands,  and  devoutly 
respond,  "Amen." 

On  leaving  Mrs.  Campbell,  with  whom  he  had  made  con- 


l(i  REV.    JOHN    SUAIMERFIELD. 

sidcrable  progress,  he  was  placed  under  the  care  of  Mr.  Berry, 
au  approved  master  in  Preston  :  for  hinn  he  entertained  a  very 
high  regard,  although  he  was  extremely  rigid.  Mr.  Berry 
pronounced  him,  on  entering  the  school,  the  best  grammarian 
he  had  ever  met  Avith  for  his  years.  Here  he  held  a  most 
respectable  rank  in  the  various  classes  ;  though  it  was  re- 
marked that  he  hardly  studied  at  all  during  the  intervals  of 
school  hours.  At  this  period  he  was  excessively  fond  of 
play  ;  indeed,  he  was  so  entirely  devoted  to  recreation,  that 
from  the  time  he  left  school,  generally  about  five  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon,  he  rarely  opened  his  books  until  within  about 
half  an  hour  of  school-time  in  the  morning,  when  he  would 
begin  to  make  preparation.  His  manner  of  committing  his 
tasks  to  memory  in  so  short  a  time,  was  somewhat  singular: 
he  would  lay  himself  down  in  the  cradle,  and  with  his  feet 
over  the  sides,  would  set  it  rocking  at  full  swing ;  he  would 
then  apply  himself  to  his  lessons  with  the  greatest  eager- 
ness ;  after  he  had  gone  over  them  a  few  times  in  this  way, 
he  would  spring  up  and  hasten  to  school,  reciting  as  he 
went  the  tasks  he  was  expected  to  repeat.  His  mother 
would  Irequently  tell  him  that  she  Avas  afraid  to  see  or  hear 
from  Mr.  Berry,  who  might  have  a  bad  account  to  give  of 
him,  as  he  was  so  negligent  with  regard  to  his  studies.  The 
accounts,  however,  received  of  him,  were  most  gratifying ; 
and  his  teachers  declared,  that  such  was  his  aptitude  for 
learning  that  he  cost  them  very  little  trouble. 

This  towardness  of  disposition  was  so  satisfactory  to  his 
ftither,  that  he  was  determined  to  spare  no  expense  in  giving 
him  a  good  education.  "With  a  wise  regard  to  the  value  of 
religious  instruction  in  connectioh  with  scholastic  discipline, 
he  was  sent  to  the  celebrated  seminary  at  Fairfield,  an 
extensive  Moravian  establishment,  about  four  miles  Irom 
Manchester.  The  preceptor  was  the  Rev.  C.  F.  Ramftier, 
who  was  likewise  the  resident  minister ;  under  this  gentle- 
man, young  Summerfield  not  only  made  considerable  prog- 


HIS   CHILDHOOD.  17 

ress  ill  the  classics,  and  other  branches  of  education,  but 
received  rehgious  impressions  which  it  is  probable  were  never 
wholly  obliterated  from  his  conscience.  In  this  school,  too, 
he  was  generally  beloved ;  and  was  especially  a  favorite 
with  the  Moravian  bishop  Moore,  then  residing  at  Fairfield. 
This  venerable  prelate  used  to  dehght  in  hearing  the  amiable 
tyro  recite  religious  pieces  in  prose  and  verse  :  this  distinc- 
tion M'as  carried  so  far,  that  he  was  even  selected  to  give 
these  recitations  in  the  chapel — a  practice  which,  as  it  has 
not  been  repeated,  shows  at  least  the  estimation  in  which  he 
was  held  by  the  worthy  superiors  in  that  establishment.  He 
remained  in  this  delightful  retreat  nearly  five  years,  when 
he  was  abruptly  taken  away  in  consequence  of  his  father's 
misfortunes,  in  December,  1809. 

During  the  vacations  of  midsiimmer  and  Christmas  up 
to  this  period,  when  he  returned  home,  his  company  was 
sought  and  he  was  caressed  by  the  heads  of  several  of  the 
first  families  in  the  neighborhood  of  Burslem  ;  being  treated^ 
more  like  an  equal  than  a  mere  boy  by  some  of  his  seniors, 
who  held  him  up  as  an  example  for  youth  much  older 
than  himself  to  emulate.  His  memory  was  remarkably 
tenacious,  and  his  fund  of  entertaining  pieces,  grave  as 
well  as  humorous,  in  connection  wdth  his  powers  for  I'cci- 
tation  before  alluded  to,  rendered  him  a  very  desirable  com- 
panion. 

The  following  anecdote,  as  it  exhibits  the  filial  piety  and 
precocious  talents  of  this  interesting  boy,  may  be  appropri- 
ately introduced  here.  In  the  year  1810,  at  the  time  when 
Mr.  William  Summerfield's  embarrassments  were  extremely 
distressing,  and  led  to  the  employment  of  John  in  various 
ways,  a  thought  struck  the  intelligent  lad,  that  it  was  pos- 
sible for  him  so  to  redeem  a  portion  of  his  time,  as  to  enable 
him  to  open  a  night-school.  With  him,  even  at  this  early 
age,  to  devise  and  to  execute  were  the  same :  the  attempt 
was  made ;  the  school  was  opened ;  and  many  young  men 


18  RRV.   JOHN  SUMMERFIELD. 

twice  as  old  as  himself  presented  themselves,  so  that  he  had 
soon  more  applications  than  he  could  receive.  The  school 
was  continued  until  his  removal  to  Liverpool,  when  he 
parted  with  his  pupils  amid  their  sincere  regrets.  It  is 
worthy  of  remark,  that  tlie  proceeds  of  this  school  were 
religiouslj^  handed  over  to  his  mother. 

At  this  period  he  seems  to  have  cherished  that  spark  of 
religious  feeling,  and  to  have  maintained  the  distinctness  of 
those  impressions  of  which  he  had  been  the  subject  at  Fair- 
field. It  was,  moreover,  his  practice  to  spend  much  time — 
his  friends  say  "whole  weeks" — in  retirement,  for  the  pur- 
poses of  study  and  meditation ;  exhibiting  herein  a  faint 
and  juvenile  emulation  of  the  holy  conduct  of  the  celebrated 
non-conformist  divine,  Isaac  Ambrose,  once  the  minister  of 
Prcslon,  Avhose  custom  it  was  once  a  year  to  retire  into  a 
hut  in  a  neighboring  wood,  and  there  spend  a  montli  in 
religions  contemplation. 

As  already  stated,  Mrs.  Summerfield  died  in  1811. 
John,  then  in  his  thirteenth  year,  accompanied  this  beloved 
parent  to  Liverpool,  whither  she  had  gone  for  the  benefit  of 
the  sea  air ;  and  he  was  the  only  child  that  was  with  her 
(luring  the  last  four  months  of  her  illness.  The  circum- 
stance of  her  death  peculiarly  impressed  his  mind,  and  he 
often  dwelt  upon  the  subject — especially  in  after-life,  when 
he  hardly  ever  spoke  of  the  glorified  throng  in  heaven  with- 
out naming  his  mother.  This  wealthy,  interesting,  and 
thriving  town,  which  had  afforded  a  grave  to  his  mother, 
now  became  the  residence  of  her  son ;  and  here,  before  he 
was  fifteen  years  old,  he  filled  the  situation  of  clerk  in  a 
mercantile  establishment,  being  principally  employed  in 
managing  a  French  correspondence,  the  principal  being 
himself  unacquainted  with  foreign  languages.  He  was  an 
excellent  book-keeper  and  accountant,  and  was  prized  and 
retained  in  this  situation  until  the  failure  of  the  house. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  young  Summerfield  liad  a 


HIS   CHILDHOOD.  19 

remarkable  dream,  to  which  he  has  frequently  been  known 
to  advert  in  after-life  ;  it  is  however  mentioned  here,  not  as 
otherwise  important,  than  as  showing,  with  perhaps  the 
ordinary  exaggeration  arising  from  the  eiiect  of  sleep,  the 
tenor  and  tendency  of  his  waking  thoughts.  One  night, 
after  he  had  been  some  time  in  bed,  his  sister  was  alarmed 
by  an  uncommon  noise  which  he  made  :  at  this  time  he 
was  subject  to  the  cramp ;  but  contrary  to  expectation, 
when  his  sister  entered  his  room  he  was  fast  asleep,  yet 
appeared  very  restless,  and  his  countenance  was  much  agi- 
tated. She  awoke  him  and  inquired  what  was  the  matter ; 
he  replied,  "Did  I  disturb  you?  It  was  not  the  cramp  : 
I'll  tell  you,  Ellen,  all  about  it  in  the  morning."  The  next 
day,  she  was  very  anxious  to  know  every  particular  relative 
to  the  disturbance  which  had  caused  the  alarm,  "Ah," 
said  he,  "it  M^as  a  terrifying  dream;  when  I  made  that 
noise  and  exhibited  that  struggle,  I  thought  Satan  hd.d  laid 
hold  upon  me."  Said  he,  "  I  found  a  beaten  track,  in  which 
great  numbers  of  persons  were  walking ;  I  therefore  resolved 
to  mingle  with  the  crowd  and  ascertain  the  meaning  of  all 
this.  After  some  time  I  discovered  what  I  took  to  be  the 
termination  of  my  wadiderings,  yet  I  could  not  see  any  par- 
ticular object  of  attraction,  although  many  appeared  to  be 
worshipping  something  which  I  could  not  perceive ;  how- 
ever, on  a  nearer  approach,  I  found  the  object  of  adoration 
to  be  no  other  than  Satan  himself,  surrounded  by  a  pros- 
trate multitude.  I  immediately  looked  round  for  some  way 
by  which  I  might  escape,  determining  that  /  ivoulcl  not 
bend  the  knee:  I  at  last  discovered  a  narrow  and  winding 
stairway,  the  ascent  of  which  was  very  high  and  steep,  yet 
I  was  resolved  to  ascend  although  I  had  to  pass  by  Satan  to 
reach  the  stairs.  I  mounted  with  great  rapidity  ;  the  wind- 
ings became  more  and  more  difficult,  and  my  course' was 
much  impeded ;  with  brealhless  anxiety  I  took  one  look 
back,  and  finding  T  was  pursued  and  almost  within  the  very 


20  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

gras]}  of  the  enemy,  I  made  one  desperate  eflbrt,  by  which 
I  escaped,  and  immediately  awoke." 

No  part  of  his  correspondence  with  his  family  or  others, 
at  this  period,  has  been  preserved — at  least,  none  has  come 
to  hand.  In  the  absence  of  such  documentary  evidence  as 
his  own  letters,  it  is  yet  certain  that  he  indulged  to  the  ut- 
most of  his  means  that  thirst  for  information  by  which  he 
had  always  been  distinguished,  especially  a  taste  for  oratory, 
which  having  heen  implanted  with  his  early  habits,  he 
sought  every  opportunity  of  gratifying  by  hearing  the  best 
speakers,  whether  in  the  pulpit,  at  the  bar,  or  in  popular 
assemblies  :  among  the  former,  the  Rev.  Thomas  Spencer, 
whose  popularity  was  at  that  time  the  ascendant  attraction 
ill  Liverpool,  appears  to  have  been  one  of  the  chief  pulpit 
favorites  of  our  young  aspirant. 


HIS   YOUTH.  21 


CHAPTER   II. 

REMOVAL  TO  DUBLIN  — FALLS  IXTO  DISSIPATED  HABITS  — OCCA- 
SIONAL CONTRITION— CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  DR.  RAFFLES- 
THINKS  OF  ENTERING  THE  I\IINISTRY  AMONG  THE  DISSENTERS 
—  GOES  INTO  BUSINESS  — FRESH  IRREGULARITIES  — ATTENDS 
THE  COURTS  OF  LAW. 

Towards  the  latter  end  of  the  year  1812,  Mr.  "VYilUam 
Summerfield  removed  with  his  family  to  Dublm.  On  their 
settlement  in  that  city,  John  evinced  no  disposition  to  pursue 
any  kind  of  business  or  profession.  It  is  somewhat  remark- 
able that  his  associates,  from  this  time  iintil  he  became  relig- 
ious in  the  true  sense  of  the  term,  were  generally  persons 
from  ten  to  twenty  years  older  than  himself;  indeed,  he  had 
no  companions  in  youth  of  his  own  age ;  and  one  of  the 
most  extraordinary  features  in  his  character  consisted  in  the 
fluency  and  ability  with  which  he  could  converse  on  subjects 
seldom  attended  to  by  one  of  his  years.  At  fifteen  he  seemed 
to  possess  the  experience  of  a  person  advanced  in  life — an 
uncommon  knowledge  of  human  nature,  and  the  rare  talent 
of  describing  whatever  he  had  heard  or  seen  in  the  most 
interesting  manner. 

These  qualities,  with  a  large  fund  of  anecdotes  and  a  rare 
facetiousness,  together  Avith  a  disposition  the  "most  accom- 
modating, probably  conduced  to  his  chief  misfortunes.  His 
warm  heart,  which  was  truly  formed  for  friendship,  could 
rarely  withstand  the  fervor  of  solicitation.  So  ready  was 
he  to  serve  his  friends,  that  he  would  frequently,  for  acts  of 
kindness  towards  others,  perform  acts  of  indiscretion  towards 
himself,  which  as  frequently  led  him  into  difficulties. 

His  extreme  sensibility  was  such,  that  a  plaintive  appeal 
was  generally  irresistible  ;  it  would  call  forth  all  his  ener- 
gies ;  and  sometimes  he  has  had  the  mortification  to  discover 
that  his  kindness  had  been  at  least  ill  timed,  and  frequently. 


22  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

as  just  intimated,  accompanied  by  serious  disadvantage  to 
liimself.  To  turn  -a  deaf  ear  to  the  complaints  of  the  dis- 
tressed, "was  quite  out  of  the  question  with  John  Summer- 
field  ;  if  his  time  or  his  talents  were  in  requisition,  they 
were  bestowed  with  an  ardor  bordering  on  enthusiasm  ;  was 
pecuniary  assistance  required,  it  was  never  withheld,  if  in 
liis  power  to  communicate.  On  one  of  these  occasions,  he 
w^as  called  upon  by  a  petitioner  in  distress  ;  but  alas,  his 
means  were  exhausted  :  after  a  moment's  dehberation,  he 
left  the  person,  requesting  him  to  wait  till  his  return.  Going 
home,  he  found  the  silver  spoons  laid  upon  the  dinner-table ; 
these  he  removed,  together  with  what  teaspoons  he  could 
collect,  and  presented  the  whole  to  the  person  in  distress, 
whom  he  had  known,  when  in  affluent  circumstances,  as  an 
individual  by  whom  his  father  had  lost  considerable  sums 
of  money. 

The  company  with  whom  he  at  this  time  mingled,  caused 
him  to  be  much  from  home,  spending  his  time  at  the  theatre, 
the  billiard-room,  or  the  card-table;  most  frequently  the 
latter.  This  infatuating  species  of  vice  so  captivated  his 
mind,  that  by  practice  he  became  quite  an  adept,  and  was 
led  on  by  degrees  to  emulate  the  more  adventurous  by  play- 
ing a  higlb  game.  It  may  well  be  conceived  that  these 
irregularities  were  sources  of  indescribable  anguish  to  his 
father  and  family,  who  frequently  labored  under  the  most 
dreadful  apprehensions,  not  knowing  where  such  things 
might  eud. 

Remorse  of  conscience  always  followed  a  season  of  dis- 
sipation, and  then  his  suflerings  were  almost  beyond  endur- 
ance. On  these  occasions,  he  would  remain  closeted  for 
weeks  together,  engaged,  not  only  in  his  studies,  which  were 
intense,  but  in  daily  lamenting  with  heart-rending  fervor 
his  trangressions  ;  seven  times  a  day  has  he  been  known  to 
prostrate  himself  with  his  fixce  to  the  ground,  imploring  the 
tiivtnc   forgiveness  for  his   manifold   sins.      His  distress  of 


HIS   YOUTH.  23 

mind,  on  account  of  disobedience  to  his  parents,  was  often 
almost  more  than  he  could  bear.  It  "was  during  these  lucid 
intervals  of  compunction  and  penitence,  that  his  father's 
bruised  hopes  of  ultimately  seeing  his  son  a  minister  of  the 
gospel  used  to  revive.  Had  he  not  been  a  man  of  un- 
commonly strong  faith,  there  were  circumstances  existing  at 
this  period  abundantly  sufficient  to  dishearten  him  ;  enough, 
indeed,  to  destroy  the  confidence  of  most  other  men :  yet  he 
remained  firm  in  the  belief  that  his  prayers  would  be  an- 
swered concerning  his  son. 

It  has  already  been  stated  that  young  Summerfield,  while 
in  Liverpool,  was  an  occasional  attendant  on  the  ministry 
of  the  Rev.  Thomas  Spencer.  On  the  publication  of  the 
Rev.  Thomas  Raffles'  interesting  "Life  of  Spencer,"  a  copy 
of  the  work  was  sent  by  a  friend  to  our  young  prodigal  in 
Dublin :  he  read  it  with  great  interest ;  and  feeling  his 
heart  yearn  towards  the  sacred  profession,  and  experiencing 
at  the  same  time  a  strong  desire  to  return  to  England,  he 
resolved  to  open  a  correspondence  with  the  author,  in  the 
hope  of  obtaining  admission  into  the  academy  of  the  dissent- 
ers at  Hoxton.  Through  the  kindness  of  Dr.  Raffles,  the 
first  letter  on  this  subject,  in  the  autograph  of  Summerfield, 
lies  before  me  : 

"  Dublin,  Gkand  Cjvnax  Dock,  | 

Hanover  Quay,  Jan.  7,  181-1.  ) 

"  Reverend  Sir — I  am  at  length  induced  by  the  repeat- 
ed solicitations  of  a  few  of  my  more  particular  friends,  to 
address  you  upon  a  subject  which  of  all  others  is  the  most 
weighty. 

"  My  name  is  utterly  unlvnown  to  you,  as  well  as  my 
person,  though  I  am  well  acquainted  with  both  these  in 
yourself. 

"From  my  earliest  infancy,  I  have  had  it  in  contempla- 
tion to  become  an  ambassador  for  Christ ;  and  of  late,  this 
lias  been  kindled  in  me  to  a  degree,  so  as  not  to  leave  a  doubt 


24  REV.   JOHN    SUMMERFIELP. 

in  my  mind,  but  that  my  prayers  to  God  to  open  my  way 
are  now  answering.  The  other  week,  a  friend  sent  me  your 
'  Life  of  Spencer '  from  Liverpool ;  and  I  have  read  it  with 
such  deUght,  that  it  has  tended  more  than  any  thing  to 
increase  the  spark  already  kindling.  I  am  but  eighteen* 
years  of  age,  not  yet  quite  accomplished,  and  my  youth 
would  be  the  chief  hinderance  to  my  resolution  of  addressing 
you,  had  not  my  friends  encouraged  me  to  Avrite  you  freely, 
being  so  perfectly  satisfied  of  your  Christian  temper  and 
candor,  that  if  you  gave  me  nothing  to  hope  in  my  applica- 
tion, it  would  not  be  taken  amiss. 

"  As  this  is  the  first  communication — though  I  trust  it 
may  be  suflered  to  be  continued ;  yet  being  uncertain,  and 
the  event  in  embryo — I  do  not  write  fully,  any  farther  than 
to  say,  that  the  tenets  professed  by  the  church  of  which  you 
are  the  present  supporter  and  guide,  do  most  coincide  with 
my  ideas  and  belief  in  the  revelation  of  God  by  his  Son.  I 
have  had  a  very  liberal  education,  having  been  brought  up 
at  Fairfield  academy,  near  Manchester,  among  that  worthy 
people  the  Moravians ;  and  my  father,  having  apparently 
intended  me  for  the  church,  spared  no  expense  to  render  my 
education  fit  for  the  purpose.  But  as  I  cannot  give  my  mind 
to  that  church,  for  many  reasons,  I  would  be  more  willing 
to  list  under  the  banners  of  your  church  ;  though  God  knows 
it  is  in  effect  the  same  as  theirs,  being  all  warriors  for  Christ. 
I  enclose  this  in  a  letter  to  my  friends  in  Liverpool,  to  be 
forwarded  to  you,  being  ignorant  of  your  address. 

"  You  will  see  how  to  address  me,  at  the  head  of  this ; 
and  I  would  entreat  your  answer,  if  so  much  of  your  precious 
1  ime  can  be  devoted  to  answer  so  unworthy  a  servant ;  but 
though  unworthy,  not  the  more  unwelcome. 

"  I  would  wish  to  begin  my  race  early,  run  it  with  joy, 
and  end  it  with  glory. 

*  So  in  the  original,  but  it  is  certainly  a  slip  of  the  pen;  it  should 
be  "sixteen."  , 


His   YOUTH.  25 

"  This  commuiiicatiou  is  with  my  father's  approbation — 
a  gentleman  in  moderate  circumstances,  whose  highest  wish 
it  is  to  see  liis  son  settled  in  his  course. 
"  Believe  me,  reverend  sir, 

'-'  Yours,  most  respectfully  and  devotedly, 

"J.  SUMMERFIELD.- 
"  The  E,ev.  Thomas  Raffles,  Liverpool." 

The  following  letter,  apparently  in  reply  to  the  foregoing, 
was  written,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  date,  about  throe 
months  after  it ;  there  had  probably,  however,  been  an  in- 
termediate communication. 

"  LiVEErooL,  March  28,  1814. 

"  Do  not  imagine,  my  dear  sir,  because  I  have  not  been 
so  quick  as  you  might  wish,  and  as  I  have  desired  to  be,  in 
n^y  reply  to  your  communication,  in  which  you  stated  so 
much  at  length  your  feelings  and  your  views,  that  I  have 
forgotten  you,  or  that  I  take  no  interest  in  your  aflliirs.  The 
fact  is,  that  I  have  been  waiting  for  a  favorable  opportunity 
of  writing  you  pretty  much  at  length,  but  owing  to  the  ex- 
treme press  of  official  business,  I  have  not  been  able. 

"  You  can  form  no  conception  of  the  labors  of  a  pastor 
who  has  two  thousand  souls  committed  to  his  care.  Even 
now  I  steal  half  an  hour  from  rest,  for  the  purpose  of  com- 
muning with  my  friends  ;  and  I  cannot  prevail  upon  myself 
to  retire,  though  exhausted  nature  demands  repose,  till  1 
have,  by  a  few  lines,  relieved  the  anxiety  of  your  mind. 

"  I  have  been  out  of  town,  into  Wales,  which  is  the 
cause  of  my  not  having  answered  your  letter  till  now.  I 
am  very  happy  now  to  find  that  you  have  a  design  to  visit 
Liverpool ;  I  can  talk  to  you  upon  the  interesting  subject  of 
our  correspondence,  and  say  more  to  you  and  hear  more  fronr 
you  in  one  hour,  than  could  transpire  in  twenty  letters. 

"Have  you  friends  in  Liverpool?  1  am  sorry  that  I 
have  no  house  to  invite  you  to.  I  am  but  a  bachelor,  and 
consequently  a  lodger.     I  hope  you  will  come  either  before 


^6  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELl).     ■ 

or  after  the  month  of  May,  as  during  tiiat  month  I  expect 
to  be  in  London.  I  should  rather  it  was  after  May,  as  in 
the  ensuing  month  I  have  no  less  than  three  journies  to 
make,  by  which,  of  course,  my  time  will  be  very  much  con- 
sumed— besides  much  other  business  which  will  absorb  my 
whole  attention. 

"  I  should  like,  when  you  are  here,  to  enjoy  much  of  your 
society ;  and  this,  at  present,  I  fear  I  should  not  be  able  to 
do.  I  forbear,  in  the  prospect  of  an  interview  which  your 
letter  promises,  to  enter  now  into  any  further  particulars 
rfespecting  your  views  of  the  ministry — and  praying  you  to 
maintain  a  spirit  of  self  examination,  watchfulness,  and  dili- 
gence, with  best  respects  to  your  friends,  I  am 
^  "  Yours,  very  faithfully, 

-  ^  "  THOIvIAS  RAFFLES." 

The  two  foregoing  letters  are  given  entire,  because  they 
constitute  the  material  evidence  of  a  very  interesting  move- 
ment in  the  mind  of  Summerfield,  and  the  solicitation  for  an 
arrangement  which,  had  it  taken  place,  might  have  been  of 
the  last  importance  in  his  life.  Upon  the  probable  issue  of 
events,  had  the  desire  he  then  felt  been  consummated,  it 
would  now  be  idle  to  speculate.  One  question,  however, 
naturally  suggests  itself,  which  it  will  be  neither  difficult 
nor  improper  to  settle,  namely,  whether  the  negotiations 
alluded  to  were  terminated  voluntarily  or  otherwise  on  the 
part  of  the  petitioner.  Whatever  other  letters  were  written 
on  this  subject — and  others  undoubtedly  there  were — the  two 
above  cited  are  obviously  the  first  and  the  last  that  passed 
between  the  parties;  and  whether  or  not  the  intermediale 
ones  contained  any  more  distinct  overtui'es  from  either  side, 
cannot  be  ascertained.  If  it  should  be  thought  that  Dr. 
Raffles'  communication  holds  out  but  little  encouragement 
to  the  youthful  applicant,  and  that  the  stretching  forth  a 
little  further  the  hand  of  ministerial  affection  might  have 
brought  a  vriliialili>  rpornit  inin  llic  ranks  of  tlic  di.^spiilcrs, 


HIS    rOUTH.  27 

it  must  at  the  same  time  be  recollected  that  Mr.  Summer- 
field's  solicitation,  although  signed  with  liis  name,  and  to  a 
certain  extent  accredited,  was  virtually  anonymous  ;  and  lor 
the  pastor  of"  a  large  church  thus  to  be  expected  pronrptly  to 
extend  his  patronage,  in  a  matter  of  so  much  delicacy,  to  an 
entire  stranger,  was  in  the  abstract  unreasonable.  Besides, 
under  these  circumstances,  the  language  of  courtesy  and  the 
proposal  of  an  interview  on  the  part  of  Mr.  E-afHes,  fairly 
entitle  his  conduct  herein  to  the  character  of  that  of  delicate 
and  judicious  encouragement.  Thus  much  is  plainly  dedu- 
cible  from  the  document  alone  ;  and  if  there  was  no  other 
evidence,  the  legitimate  inference  would  be,  either  that  Surn- 
rnerfield  retracted  from  discouragement,  or  that  he  changed 
his  mind.  His  own  testimony,  from  a  letter  written  after 
his  conversion  to  a  religious  friend,  appears  to  settle  the 
question.  Speaking  of  the  sanguine  hopes  he  once  enter- 
tained in  prospect  of  this  arrangement,  he  adds,  "  Filial  duty 
however  prevented,  on  my  father's  remonstrance,  which 
arose  iVom  the  doctrines  taught  by  many  of  that  body,  as  to 
election,  etc.  ;  consequently  I  gave  iip  the  idea."  Few  per- 
sons, at  all  acquainted  with  either  the  father  or  the  son, 
would  doubt  their  sincerity  in  this  reason  ;  fewer  still,  it  may 
be  })resumed,  of  those  who  witnessed  Summerfield's  fall  into 
new  dissipations,  would  rejoice  that  they  should  have  pre- 
vailed. At  the  same  time,  many  things  not  necessary  to  be 
specified  here,  must  have  been  attended  to  before  he  could 
have  been  admitted  into  a  dissenter's  academy.  He  evi- 
dently had  not  the  religious  experience  required  of  candi- 
dates, whatever  his  doctrinal  notions  might  have  been. 

Notwithstanding  all  the  agony  which  he  occasionally  felt 
for  his  past  misconduct,  and  his  frequent  intervals  of  resolu- 
tion and  reform,  he  was  repeatedly  tempted  into  courses  of 
dissipation.  He  became -extravagantly  fond  of  theatrical 
amusements ;  and  having  no  regular  employment,  he  de- 
lighted in  attending  whole  days  in  the  courts  of  justice  and 


28  REV.   JOHN  SUMMERFIELD. 

in  visitintj  public  institutions.  He  would  leave  home  for 
weeks  together,  visiting  London  and  other  places  with  the 
view  ol'  gaining  information — his  family  sometimes  having 
no  idea  where  he  was.  As  already  intimated,  his  admira- 
tion of  oratory  was  excessive  ;  and  he  would  lose  no  oppor- 
tunity of  hearing  eminent  speakers.  It  was  all  one  to  him 
whether  they  were  to  be  found  in  the  pulpit,  at  the  bar,  in 
the  senate,  or  on  the  stage.  "V\Tien  necessity  compelled  him 
to  return  home,  he  v/ould  shut  himself  up  in  his  chamber ; 
and  during  these  fits  of  seclusion,  such  was  his  thirst  for 
knovv'ledge  that  he  made  a  point  of  rising  at  four  o'clock  in 
the  morning  ;  after  which  he  frequently  remained  at  his 
studies  without  interruption  until  eight  o'clock  in  the  even- 
ing, taking,  during  the  intermediate  sixteen  hours,  only  two 
or  three  cups  of  coflee  I 

This  irregular  and  intense  application  was,  without 
doubt,  seriously  injurious  to  his  constitution  ;  and  he  had  at 
times  a  very  emaciated  appearance,  arising  from  mental 
labor,  close  confinement,  and  great  distress  of  mind  on  ac- 
count of  his  past  misconduct. 

Young  as  he  was,  his  father  now  began  to  feel  a  wish  to 
establish  him  in  some  business,  and  selected,  very  unprom- 
isingly,  as  most  persons  will  think,  the  coal-trade.  In  this 
ungeuial  concern  he  was  associated  with  another  individual 
more  experienced  than  himself.  Prospects  of  profit  had  no 
influence  with  Summerfield  to  induce  his  certainly  elegant 
mind  to  accommodate  itself  to  the  language  of  the  wharf,  or 
calculations  by  the  chaldron.  Instead,  therefore,  of  being 
found  at  the  quay  or  in  the  counting-house,  he  gave  his  atten- 
tion to  neither,  but  would  shut  himself  up  in  his  study  or 
absent  himself  from  home  altogether.  Such  misconduct  was 
followed  by  its  natural  consequences.  The  unsettled  kind 
of  life  which  he  still  continued  to  lead,  frequently  incurred 
his  father's  displeasure ;  and  this  conduct  was  aggravated 
by  his  promises  of  reform,  which  were  not  more  frequently 


HIS    i'UUXH.  29 

made  lliau  they  were  broken,  so  that  his  derehctions  became 
intolerable.  This  total  neglect  of"  business  and  the  concom- 
itant money  losses,  led  him  to  the  exercise  of  a  facile  and 
too  often  practised  expedient  ibr  the  relief  of  his  present  difli- 
culties  :  he  was  induced  to  indorse  paper  acceptances,  for 
those  whom  he  conceived  to  be  his  friends.  This  involved 
him  in  responsibilities  which  he  could  not  meet,  and  not  only 
brought  poverty  and  distress  into  his  family,  but  ultimate 
ruin  upon  himself,  As  the  climax  of  his  degi'adation  he  was 
thrown  into  the  marshalsea  of  Dublin. 

Here  a  new  theatre  lor  the  exercise  of  his  ingenuity  was 
presented  :  having  a  tolerable  stock  of  legal  knowledge,  he 
employed  himself  for  his  fellows  in  confinement,  in  drawing 
up  the  necessary  memorials  for  those  who  were  seeking 
their  enlargement  under  the  provisions  of  the  Insolvent  act. 
Whatever  an  attorney  could  do  in  this  respect,  was  easy  to 
Summerfield  :  and  the  cases  which  he  undertook  to  manage 
being  generally  successful,  his  practice  in  this  way  became 
considerable,  and  continued  even  after  his  own  liberation. 
His  necessities  corhpclled  him  to  make  a  regular  charge,  so 
that  he  derived  from  this  source  a  considerable  income.  In 
drawing  up  a  petition  on  any  subject,  he  had  acquired  a 
facihty  that  was  astonishing :  he  would  commence  and  con- 
tinue to  the  end  of  the  document,  almost  without  a  moment's 
hesitation,  and  rarely  with  a  single  interlineation.  In  this 
respect  he  was  singularly  gifted,  as  his  letters  and  other 
compositions  evince,  for  seldom  had  he  occasion  to  alter  or 
erase  a  word ;  and  it  may  be  added,  that  in  after-life  espec- 
ially, he  wrote  a  neat  and  elegant  hand  Avith  great  rapidity 
mv}  evenness. 

Under  these  circumstances  it  is  not  surprising  that  he 
felt  a  strong  inclination  towards  the  study  of  the  law.  At 
the  age  of  sixteen,  as  before  stated,  he  was  wont  to  spend 
days  together  in  the  courts  in  Dublin,  where  he  has  fre- 
quently heard  causes  tried  from  beginning  to  end,  as  well 


30  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

for  murder  as  for  other  crimes.  After  attending  to  the  tes- 
timony of  the  various  witnesses  with  as  much  anxiety  as  if 
he  were  engaged  as  counsel,  he  would  closely  estimate  all 
the  bearings  of  the  case,  and  with  boyish  enthusiasm  has 
been  heard  to  say,  "  0,  how  I  should,  hke  to  sum  up." 

On  one  occasion,  he  was  in  attendance  before  one  of  the 
courts  of  justice  in  Dublin,  as  an  important  witness  against 
a  person  who  was  seeking  to  take  the  benefit  of  the  Insol- 
vent act.  He  was  examined,  and  most  rigidly  cross-examined 
by  an  eminent  lawyer ;  but  to  puzzle  him  appeared  impos- 
sible :  he  was  able  to  recollect,  without  any  memoranda, 
the  dates  of  a  vast  number  of  payments  and  receipts,  sales 
and  purchases — pounds,  shillings,  and  pence — with  such  ex- 
actness, that  it  astonished  the  whole  court.  On  this  occa- 
sion the  judge  paid  him  a  high  compliment:  "Pray,  sir," 
said  his  lordship,  "what  is  your  profession  ?"  "  I  am  in  no 
profession,  my  lord,"  answered  Summerfield.  "No  profes- 
sion, no  ^)/o/cssio;2,  sir?"  "  No,  my  lord."  The  judge  then 
said  something  to  the  following  effect:  "Well,  sir,  I  have 
never  heard  a  witness  within  the  walls  of  these  courts,  give 
his  testimony  in  a  more  clear,  correct,  and  satisfactory  man- 
ner than  you  have  done.  Depend  upon  it,  you'll  one  day 
or  other  he  a  zhinins'  cliaracler  in  the  world." 


HIS   CONVERSION.  31 


CHAPTER   III. 

ms   CONVERSION-ATTENDS    PRAYER-MEETINGS-INTEIIKSTING 
LETTER  TO  HIS  CLASS-LEADER. 

The  shrewd  and  generous  prediction  of  the  Irish  judge, 
just  cited,  was  destined  to  be  fulfilled  within  a  few  mouths 
after  it  was  uttered,  though  certainly  in  the  way  least  antic- 
ipated by  the  legal  prophet.  Summerfield  was  now  nine- 
teen years  of  age,  the  last  four  of  which  had  been  spent  in 
the  desultory  manner  already  noticed.  The  time,  however, 
was  now  approaching,  when  the  Lord  was  about  to  give  the 
distressed  and  prayuig  father  to  see  the  fulfilment  of  his 
most  anxious  desires,  in  the  conversion  of  his  son ;  and 
moreover,  in  seeing  a  double  portion  even  of  the  spirit  oi  a 
prophet  rest  upon  him.  This  great  gospel  change,  it  will 
be  seen,  was  not  efiected  by  any  slow  or  uncertain  process ; 
much  less,  under  such  circumstances  as  to  leave  it  for  some 
time  a  doubtful  case,  whether  or  not  his  new  character 
might  originate  in  the  mere  reformation  of  sentiment  and 
maimers.  His  conversion,  indeed,  was  at  once  signal  and 
scriptural,  and  in  its  proximate  circumstances  little  agreeing 
with  the  notions  of  those  who,  as  he  used  to  remark,  fancied 
"that  John  Summerfield  would  have  been  converted  like  a 
gentleman." 

In  the  year  1817,  he  was  brought  to  reflect  seriously  on 
his  past  life  and  on  the  conduct  he  was  then  pursuing.  He 
saw  clearly  that  he  was  the  cause  of  the  distress  to  which 
his  father  was  reduced  ;  and  his  own  prospects  in  life  ap- 
peared at  the  same  time  awfully  gloomy :  these  reflections 
had  a  dreadful  eflect  upon  his  mind,  and  he  experienced 
lashings  of  conscience  too  terrible  for  endurance.  Instead 
of  seeking  and  finding  relief  in  prayer,  he  felt  himself  a 
reprobate  before  God,  and  was  more  than  once  tempted  to 
commit  suicide.     He  found  no  resting-place  amid  the  "mire 


32  REV.    JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

and  clay"  into  which  Satan  had  brought  his  feet,  and  saw 
no  escape  from  the  "horrible  pit"  of  his  own  despair. 

In  this  state  of  mental  agony,  he  was  one  day  wandering 
about  in  the  streets  of  Dublin,  weeping  bitterly,  when  he 
was  noticed  and  accosted  by  a  pious  man,  by  trade  an  edge- 
tool  maker,  who,  with  the  tact  of  a  Methodist  and  the  sim- 
plicity of  a  saint,  ascertained  his  state  and  endeavored  to 
comfort  him  ;  at  the  same  time  inviting  him  to  his  house, 
where  he  was  about  to  hold  a  prayer-meeting.  The  party 
assembled  consisted  chiefly  of  soldiers  i'rom  the  barracks ; 
prayer  was  oflered  by  ditlerent  persons  in  turn,  and  the  case 
of  the  providential  interloper  was  specially  presented  before 
Him  with  whom  "the  effectual  fervent  prayer  of  a  righteous 
man  availeth  much ;"  and  such  was  the  fervor  of  the  good 
leader  and  the  soldiers,  and  so  sincere  the  contrition  and  sup- 
plication of  the  penitent,  that  he  that  very  night  found 
peace  to  his  soul. 

Having  found  such  a  blessing  among  these  poor  soldiers, 
he  became  much  attached  to  them,  and  resolved  to  make 
them  some  return  of  kindness  for  what  they  had  done  for 
him.  On  inquiry,  he  ascertained  that  their  situation  at  the 
barracks  was  by  no  means  comfortable,  they  being  perpetu- 
ally ridiculed  and  insulted  by  wicked  men  in  the  regiment. 
Hearing  this,  he  was  determined  to  relieve  them  if  possible — 
for  on  his  visits  he  found  them  as  bad  as  they  had  been 
described — utterers  of  prolime  sarcasms  and  revilers  of  all 
religion.  In  resolving  to  do  what  he  could  towards  chang- 
ing the  character  of  these  men,  he  hit  upon  an  expedient 
which,  however  successful  in  his  case,  is  of  too  perilous  "a 
nature  to  be  adduced  for  imitation.  He  commenced  his 
work  of  reformation  by  relating  such  stories  and  anecdotes 
as  he  knew  would  please  them,  endeavoring  by  every  means 
to  make  his  company  agreeable  to  them.  In  this  he  suc- 
ceeded ;  and  in  time,  as  his  visits  became  frequent  and 
acceptable,  he  began  to  check  their  swearing  and  other  im- 


HIS   CONVERSION.  33 

proper  language.  He  would  even  occasionally  condescend 
to  assist  them  in  little  matters,  as  pipe-claying  their  belts, 
etc.  At  length,  he  so  far  gained  their  respect  and  estab- 
lished his  own  influence,  that  no  improper  language  was 
ever  allowed  or  used  in  his  presence ;  and  if  any  thing 
wrong  happened  to  be  going  on  at  the  time  of  his  visit,  the 
moment  that  he  entered  the  yard,  some  one  would  give  the 
signal,  "He's  coming,"  and  presently  all  became  order  and 
regularity.  He  next  got  them  to  attend  to  reading  the 
Bible,  held  regular  prayer-meetings  among  them,  and  ex- 
horted them  to  seek  the  Lord.  The  number  of  serious  per- 
sons among  the  soldiers  increased  daily,  and  his  plan  pros- 
pered more  and  more,  until,  to  his  great  regret,  the  regiment 
was  removed. 

He  now  felt  at  a  loss  for  a  proper  sphere  for  the  exercise 
of  his  zeal :  at  length  he  bethought  himself  of  the  Old  Men's 
Ho&pital,  which  he  visited  repeatedly,  but  with  little  suc- 
cess, as  he  found  the  inmates,  to  use  his  own  phrase,  "too 
tough  for  any  impression  that  he  could  make  ;"  and  he  was 
often  heard  to  say,  in  consequence  of  his  experience  here, 
that  "a  man  turned  fifty  would  hardly  be  converted." 

His  first  class-leader  was  the  pious  Patrick  French,  who, 
at  the  latter  end  of  1817,  left  Dublin  as  a  missionary  to  the 
"West  Indies.  This  gentleman  presently  discovered  the  ster- 
ling piety  and  promising  talents  of  the  young  convert ;  and 
before  his  departure  from  Ireland,  he  waited  upon  one  of  the 
preachers  to  commend  the  stranger  to  his  particular  notice, 
"Brother  Lamb,"  said  he,  "I  am  going  from  you,  perhaps 
never  to  return.  Hemember  now  my  last  request :  take 
particular  care  of  brother  Summerfield  ;  make  him  known 
to  all  your  brethren,  and  he  will  one  day  shine  in  the  world 
and  in  the  church  of  God." 

From  Mr.  French,  whom  he  used  to  call  his  spiritual 
father,  he  had  received  many  kindnesses,  and  that  too  at 
a  time  when  the  attentions  of  a  Christian  friend  were  most 


34  REV.    JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

necessary  and  acceptable.  *  *  *  The  following  extracts  from 
a  letter  addressed  to  him  by  Mr.  Summerfield  will  be  read 
with  great  interest.  The  writer's  well-known  characteris- 
tics of  memory,  veracity,  and  candor,  are  vouchers  for  the 
authenticity  of  a  narrative  to  which  Providence  has  given  a 
peculiar  interest,  and  which  exhibits  certain  delicate  auto- 
biographical touches  which,  in  the  estimation  of  its  present 
copyist,  ought  to  be  sacredly  preserved. 

"  Dublin,  Lower  Motojt-street,  Nov.  24,  1817. 

"  My  very  dear  Sir — Although  you  kindly  promised  to 
favor  me  with  a  letter  from  London  at  your  convenience, 
yet  my  anxiety  to  have  this  pleasure  fulfilled  will  not  sufler 
me  to  wait,  without  putting  you  in  mind  of  this  your  prom- 
ise, and  requesting  that  you  would  hasten  that  communica- 
tion for  which  I  am  so  anxious.  I  should  be  quite  discour- 
aged from  attempting  to  write  to  you  at  this  time,  when  I 
suppose  every  moment  is  engaged  in  concerns  of  so  weighty 
a  nature  ;  and  with  this  idea,  it  gives  me  some  pain  to  think 
that  I  am  trespassing  upon  any  portion  of  that  which  must 
be  so  very  valuable  to  you ;  but  when  I  view  you  in  the 
light  of  my  dearest  parent,  in  which  capacity  you  have  not 
only  been  pleased  to  consider  yourself  by  words,  but  much 
more  by  your  actions,  I  should  be  wanting  in  that  dutiful 
respect  which  I  owe  you,  were  I  to  permit  any  considera- 
tion to  prevent  my  paying  my  respects  to  you,  as  I  am  bound 
to  do  by  duty,  but  much  more  by  love.  Hoping,  therefore, 
for  your  kind  pardon  for  this  hasty  liberty,  I  presume  to  un- 
bosom my  mind  to  you  in  a  manner  which  bashfulness  would 
not  sufier  me  to  do  when  I  had  the  happiness  of  your  pres- 
ence here. 

"  I  cannot  sufficiently  lament  that  I  had  not  the  delight 
of  your  acquaintance  at  a  much  earlier  period  of  time  than 
I  have  had ;  for  had  I  been  so  fortunate,  I  should  have  been 
prevented  from  fightmg  against  what  I  now  see  to  be  the 
manifest  openings  of  that  kind  Providence,  who  says,  '  Your 


HIS  CONVERSION.  35 

name  is  oravcu  on  the  palm's  of  my  hands,'  who  there- 
fore marlcs  out  all  our  gomgs,  if  we  will  but  follow  his 
dictates. 

"Such  was  the  short  duration  of  our  acquaintance,  that 
I  do  not  even  know  whether  you  knew  that  I  was  the  son 
of  a  person  with  whom  you  had,  I  believe,  been  very  inti- 
mate as  brethren  in  Christ  for  a  long  time  ;  for  my  father 
was  for  a  considerable  time  a  member  of  the  Strangers' 
Friend  Society  in  Dublin,  and  on  terms  of  affectionate  inti- 
macy with  you. 

"However,  as  the  loss  1  have  sustained  in  my  spiritual 
state  for  want  of  an  earlier  connection,  cannot  now  be  recov- 
ered, I  wish  at  this  time  to  lay  before  you  a  very  short  ac- 
count of  the  dealings  of  Providence  with  me,  and  to  request 
you  will  give  me  such  paternal  advice  as  you  may  see  I  so 
much  need  ;  but  as  this  can  only  be  done  when  you  have  a 
moment  of  leisure  time,  let  me  not  intrude  myself  on  you 
till  that  offers  itself 

"I  often  think  that  the  deahngs  of  Almighty  God  have 
been  more  various  towards  me  than  with  persons  much 
more  advanced  in  life. 

"I  shall  have  cause  to  bless  the  Lord  through  all  the 
ages  of  eternity,  that  I  was  born  of  religious  parents ;  my 
father  being  for  many  years  a  leader  and  local  preacher  in 
the  Methodist  connection,  and  for  some  time  a  steward,  until 
we  removed  from  Preston  to  Staffordshire.  As  I  was  his 
eldest  son,  it  was  his  particular  wish  that  I  should  have  the 
best  of  educations,  as  he  always  designed  me  for  a  profes- 
sion. With  this  view,  after  being  sent  to  the  best  prepara- 
tory school,  I  was  put  among  the  Moravians,  or  United 
Brethren,  at  Fairfield,  near  Manchester,  where  I  remained 
nearly  five  years.  About  the  close  of  this  time  my  father 
received  a  call  from  the  Almighty,  to  preach  the  everlasting 
gospel  on  the  itinerant  plan.  At  this  time,  he  was  very 
extensively  engaged  in  business  in  Lancashire,  and  estimated 


36  REV.  JOHN    SUMMERFIELU. 

worth  £10,000  ;  he  had  just  completed  the  building  of  a 
commodious  house  lor  our  family  in  Preston,  and  was  pros- 
pering in  worldly  concerns  as  much  as  any  reasonable  per- 
son could  desire. 

"His  heart  being  alive  to  God  and  his  cau.s(?,  he  dared 
not  resist  the  will  of  his  great  Master,  and  prepared  to  quit 
his  business  and  hang  upon  Providence  for  his  future  life. 
For  this  purpose  he  accepted  the  ofler  of  a  gentleman  from 
Liverpool  to  become  partner  with  him  in  his  business,  which 
my  father  was  the  more  willing  to  do,  as  it  was  his  inten- 
tion to  quit  his  business  gradually,  by  disposing  of  all  he 
had  to  this  his  then  partner.  But  before  he  could  get  this 
accomplished,  he  found  that  he  had  misplaced  bis  choice, 
as  the  person  with  Avhom  he  had  associated  himself  though 
to  all  appearance  a  gentleman  of  the  first  respectabihty, 
yet  a  worldly  man,  was  involved  iu  a  mass  of  debt  from 
which  it  was  impossible  lor  him  to  extricate  himself  In 
this  situation,  my  father  became  liable  for  these  debts  as  his 
partner ;  and  in  order  to  prevent  worse  consequences,  he 
was  advised  to  assign  over  all  Ids  'property  of  every  nature 
and  kind  to  this  person,  upon  the  promise  that  he  should 
receive  a  fair  recompense  for  it.  My  father  liad  but  two 
choices,  either  to  do  this,  or  be  torn  in  pieces  for  these  debts, 
which  might  be  more  than  the  amount  of  all  that  my  father 
was  then  worth.  This  jjerson,  however,  never  fulfilled  any 
part  of  his  agreement ;  and  my  father,  by  repeated  delays 
and  disappointments,  gave  up  the  idea  of  following  that  call, 
which  he  has  ever  since  conicssed  it  was  his  duty  to  do.  It 
seemed  as  if  Providence  had  prepared  his  way  by  cutting  oti' 
at  one  stroke  every  worldly  affair,  and  by  now  refusing  that 
call  which  he  had  promised  to  accept,  the  judgments  of 
God  have  ever  since  hung  heavy  upon  him.  He  has  often 
engaged  in  worldly  matters  since;  he  has  amassed  wealth 
since  that  time,  but  the  Almighty  never  sufiered  it  to  remain 
with  hiin  ;   he  has  lost  thousands  of  pounds  in  such  ways  as 


HIS   CONVERSION.  37 

almost  seemed  miraculous,  and  he  now  attributes  it  entirely 
to  this  one  act.  Though  he  now  enjoys  the  favor  of  God, 
and  even  his  sanctifying  love  in  a  great  degree,  yet  he 
always  mourns  this  one  action  of  his  life,  and  has  frequently 
told  me  in  sincerity  and  truth,  that  the  Almighty  has  clearly 
shown  him  that  this  was  the  cause,  and  always  will  be  a 
cause  of  temporal  chastisement. 

"The  ways  of  Providence  have  heen  most  mysterious  to 
me  ;  and  in  order  that  I  may  not  frustrate  the  wise  designs 
of  heaven,  I  Avill  briefly  stale  what  I  have  experienced. 

"From  the  losses  my  father  sustained  I  was  taken  from 
school  very  abruptly,  and  having  engaged  in  several  worldly 
aflkirs,  I  became  clerk  to  a  merchant  in  Liverpool  at  four- 
teen years  of  age,  with  whom  I  had  a  liberal  salary,  though 
so  very  young,  owing  to  my  knowledge  of  the  French  lan- 
guage, of  which  my  master  knew  nothing.  Few  so  young 
had  such  fine  worldly  prospects  as  I  had  ;  but  in  a  short 
time  it  pleased  Providence  to  thwart  me  by  my  employer 
becoming  a  bankrupt.  1  then  removed  to  Ireland  with  my 
father,  where  I  had  not  been  long,  when  I  had  a  strong  de- 
sire to  return  to  England,  having  opened  a  correspondence 
M'ith  the  Rev.  Mr.  Raffles,  a  Calvinist  minister,  with  a  view 
of  obtaining  permission  to  enter  their  seminary  at  Hoxton, 
to  be  prepared  for  the  ministry  of  the  gospel ;  which,  if  I 
had  done,  I  should  probably  now  have  been  a  preacher  of 
the  everlasting  gospel  to  that  people.  I  poured  out  my' 
prayers  to  God  ;  and  if  ever  I  felt  power  with  the  Almighty, 
it  was  then.  I  am  assured  he  smiled  on  me  in  all  I  did ; 
and  when  I  had  wept  befcJre  him  on  the  reflection  of  the 
awfuhiess  of  the  work  and  my  own  youth,  I  have  experienced 
such  a  sense  of  his  presence  and  promises  of  assistance,  that 
I  could  not  for  a  moment  doubt  it  was  his  will. 

"  Ifrom  what  I  experienced  at  that  time  I  am  convinced 
that  there  are  as  good  men  in  that  body  of  Christians,  as  in 
any  other ;  for  I  was  strongly  rooted  in  their  opinions,  but 


38  .  REV.   JOHN    SUMMERFIELD. 

suffered  no  diminution  in  love  to  God  on  that  account. 
Since  then,  the  Almighty  in  a  great  measure  withdrew  his 
presence  from  me ;  and  when  my  father  directed  my  pur- 
suits to  worldly  objects,  He  thwarted  me  in  every  under- 
taking. 

"  After  being  for  some  time  w«ith  my  father,  he  put  me  into 
the  coal-trade,  in  partnership  with  another  person  then  in  the 
business.  I  advanced  £500  as  my  capital :  before  we  had 
been  together  three  months,  my  partner  behaved  to  me  very 
dishonestly;  he  had  my  money  in  his  hands  and  got  himself 
arrested,  and  having  spent  four  months  in  jail,  got  out  under 
the  Insolvent  act,  by  which  I  lost  all  my  money. 

"  In  my  soberest  moments,  I  cannot  account  for  these  dif- 
ferent crosses  on  the  scale  of  human  mischances  so  called ; 
for  I  was  not  devoid  of  all  such  prudence  as  worldly  men 
make  use  of  After  this,  my  father  again  resolved  to  con- 
tinue me  in  the  business. 

"  My  prospects  for  a  time  began  to  brighten  ;  and  with 
my  business  my  acquaintances  also  increased,  and  I  was 
induced  by  some  to  accept  bills  for  their  accommodation  to 
a  large  amount,  which  they  were  to  provide  for.  My  good- 
nature was  visited  on  my  own  head ;  the  bills  came  down 
on  me,  and  in  the  midst  of  my  seeming  prosperity,  I  was 
thrown  into  prison  for  those  bills  which  I  had  accepted. 
There  the  Almighty  kept  me  seven  long  months,  and  I  was 
again  plunged  into  poverty. 

"  Now,  my  dearest  friend,  what  shall  I  do  ?  I  hope  that 
God  has  completely  weaned  me  from  earthly  things  ;  I  have 
not  one  wish  below  the  sun,  but'  to  live  to  him.  I  am  de- 
termined to  submit  to  his  providence,  and  to  do  whatever  he 
shall  unfold  to  me. 

"  A  thought  occurred  to  me  yesterday,  in  which  I  also 
entreat  your  advice :  I  understand  that  the  Messrs.  Shaws 
have  taken  your  establishment ;  now  if  you  think  they  would 
want  some  person  to  fill  the  capacity  which  you  filled  along 


HIS   CONVERSION.  39 

with  Mrs.  French,  you  might  write  to  Mr.  Shaw  for  me. 
From  my  knowledge  of  the  French  language,  music,  Latin, 
Greek,  etc.,  I  might  be  an  acquisition  ;  not  to  mention  the 
inferior  branches,  such  as  geography,  history,  astronomy, 
etc.,  etc.  If  it  should  please  God  to  call  me  to  this  situa- 
tion, I  could  fill  it  with  honor  to  myself  and  them.  But  I 
am  entirely  resigned  to  God,  to  whatever  he  has  for  me  to 
do.  I  often  wish  that  I  was  in  the  Strangers'  Friend  Soci- 
ety, for  the  Almighty  might  have  something  for  me  to  do  for 
him,  and  I  think  I  can  never  glorify  him  sufficiently.  Yet 
0,  my  dear  friend,  I  am  like  a  sheep  without  a  shepherd  ;  I 
have  no  one  to  lead  me  by  the  hand  ;  I  am  myself  a  stran- 
ger— ^yet  I  would  fain  become  a  stranger's  friend.  If  I 
could  flatter  myself  that  I  could  be  in  any  degree  useful,  I 
should  never  be  tired  in  being  spent  for  God. 

"  However,  I  sit  me  down  and  mourn  over  my  fate — if 
I  may  use  the  word — and  my  misfortune  in  being  torn  from 
you  at  such  an  early  stage  of  our  connection.  You  are 
indeed  my  father  in  Christ ;  and  whatever  glory  may  re- 
dound to  my  heavenly  Father  through  any  weak  eflbrts  of 
mine,  must  eventually  be  attributed  to  you.  I  bless  God, 
my  love  to  him  is  daily  increasing,  and  I  am  determined,  let 
others  do  as  they  will,  I  will  serve  the  Lord.  I  hope  you 
arc  grooving  more  and  more. to  the  fulness  of  the  measure  of 
Christ;  and  that  Mrs.  French  enjoys  a  continued  sense  of 
the  approbation  of  her  great  Master.  If  I  never  meet  you 
again  on  earth,  I  am  certain  I  shall  meet  you  in  heaven ; 
for  thither  I  am  resolved  to  hasten,  and  I  am  as  certain  you 
will  embrace  me  there. 

"  Do  not  neglect  to  answer  me  fully. 
"  May  God  have  you  in  his  holy  keeping,  is  the  earnest 
prayer  of, 

"  Dear  sir, 
"  Your  unworthy,  but  affectionate, 

"JOHN  SUMMERFIELU." 


40  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

A  brief  note  in  reply,  dated  November  29,  1817,  contains 
the  Ibllowing  exhortation :  "  Wait  God's  appointed  time  in 
all  circumstances.  1  wrote  to  Mr.  Shaw  about  you  ;  he 
will,  1  know,  do  what  he  can.  God  is  your  best  friend, 
trust  him  ;  when  you  least  expect  it,  his  promise  will  be  con- 
firmed. Let  prayer  be  your  constant  exercise.  Value  the 
Bible  as  your  faithful  companion.  Rise  early  in  the  morning 
for  reading  and  prayer,  and  frequent  the  ordinances." 


EFFOmS    10   DO   GOOD.  41 

CHAPTER   IV. 

BEGINS  TO  KEEP  A  DURY- ATTENDS  SUNDAY-SCHOOLS  — GH^ES 
AN  EXHORTATION  — INCESSANTLY  STUDIES  THE  HOLY  SCRIP- 
TURES—ATTENDS AN  IRISH  WAKE- FILIAL  OBEDIENCE— FALLS 
INTO  TE-AIPTATION.  ^  ^ 

The  preceding  chapters  exhibit  a  somewhat  rapid  sketch 
of  Mr.  Summerfield's  hfe,  from  the  time  of  his  birth  to  the 
twentieth  year  of  his  age.  Of  the  remaining  portion  of  his 
brief  but  brilliant  career,  more  ample  and  detailed  notices 
will  be  expected :  happily  for  the  writer  and  readers  of  the 
memoirs  of  this  most  interesting  servant  of  God,  his  own 
industry  has  left  materials  the  most  abundant  and  satis- 
factory. 

From  the  time  of  his  conversion,  until  the  period  when 
he  could  no  longer  hold  a  pen,  with  some  interruptions,  he 
kept  au  exact  diary  of  his  hfe.  In  projecting  this  elaborate 
register  of  his  daily  actions  and  experience,  Mr.  Summerfield 
might  justly  have  coUoquized  with  himself  in  the  language 
of  the  most  eloquent  and  powerful  of  modern  British  essay- 
ists.* "  The  little  rill  near  the  source  of  one  of  the  great 
American  rivers,  is  an  interesting  object  to  the  traveller,  who 
is  apprized,  as  he  steps  across  it  or  walks  a  few  miles  aiong 
its  bank,  that  this  is  the  stream  which  runs  so  far,  and  which 
gradually  swells  into  so  immense  a  flood.  So,  while  I  antic- 
ipate the  endless  progress  of  life,  and  wonder  through  what 
luikuowir  scenes  it  is  to  take  its  course,  its  past  years  lose 
that  character  of  vanity  which  would  seem  to  belong  to  a 
train  of  fleeting,  perishing  moments,  and  I  see  them  assuming 
the  dignity  of  a  commencing  eternity.  In  them  I  have  begun 
to  be  that  conscious  existence  which  I  am  to  be  through 
infinite  duration  ;  and  I  feel  a  strange  emotion  of  curiosity 
about  this  little  life,  in  which  I  am  setting  out  on  such  a 
progress  :  I  cannot  be  content  without  an  accurate  sketch 
*  Foster.     On  a  Man  writing  Memoii-s  of  Himself. 


42  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

of  the  windings  thus  far  of  a  stream  which  is  to  bear  me  on 
for  ever." 

This  iavahiable  document,  in  a  transcript  of  certified 
accuracy,  now  hes  before  me.  It  appears,  indeed,  from  an 
expression  in  the  passage  presently  to  be  cited,  that  this  is 
not  the  earliest  diurnal  record  which  Mr.  Suramerfield  had 
kept :  whether,  however,  that  has  been  preserved  or  not, 
appears  uncertain ;  it  is  not  among  the  papers  transmitted 
to  the  present  writer. 

The  "  Journal,"  as  it  is  entitled,  is  thus  introduced  : 

"  1818,  January  1,  Thuk-Sday.  Commenced  this  year  in 
Whitefriar's-street  meeting-house  on  my  knees,  at  the  watch- 
night. 

"  I  felt  the  presence  of  the  Lord,  and  my  soul  was  fed 
with  good  things.  0,  that  I  may  prove  faithful  this  year. 
I  have  often  dedicated  myself  to  (rod  on  a  similar  occasion, 
but  as  often  have  violated  my  engagements  ;  yet  this  year  I 
am  determined,  let  others  do  what  they  will,  I  will  serve 
the  Lord. 

"  ^Yhen  I  call  to  mind  the  mercies  of  the  past  year,  I 
am  quite  lost  in  contemplating  the  goodness  of  God  : 

"  '  Where  shall  my  wondering  soul  begin  ?' 

The  last  year  was  truly  a  year  of  trial  and  great  affliction 
to  our  family,  as  may  be  seen  in  other  parts  of  my  former 
diary.  What  this  year  may  bring  forth,  I  know  not.  But 
0,  my  Father,  whatever  thou  maycst  have  in  reserve  for  me 
in  the  womb  of  thy  providence  this  year,  prepare  me  for  it. 
Thy  will  be  done.  I  am  satisfied  to  pass  through  'poverty, 
if  it  is  thy  will ;  only  let  me  be  always  rich  in  faith  tow^ards 
thee.  If  I  should  be  intrusted  with  temporal  riches,  may  I 
consider  myself  as  thy  steward,  to  whom  I  must  give  an 
account ;  and  keep  me  always  iioor  in  spirit.  If  this  should 
be  a  year  of  sorroto  to  me,  yet  may  I  be  enabled  always  to 
rejoice  in  God  my  Saviour.     If  a  year  oi  joy,  yet  may  I 


EFFORTS  TU   Do  OOOD.  43 

swroio  that  I  do  not  love  thee  more.  I  am  thine  ;  do  with 
me  what  thou  wilt,  only  bring  me  to  glory." 

The  following  entry,  under  the  same  date,  refers  to  an 
engagement  which  is  the  more  precisely  noted  here,  for  a 
reason  which  will  presently  appear  :  "  Eight  o'clock.  After 
preaching,  was  invited  by  my  dear  brother,  my  class  com- 
panion, to  come  to  a  prayer-meeting  in  Whitefriar's-street, 
appointed  for  supplicating  a  revival  of  God's  work  among  us 
this  year.  While  on  my  knees,  an  unknown  hand  tapped 
me  on  tlie  shoulder  to  pray ;  it  was  the  first  time  I  ever 
prayed  in  public  :  I  began  in  weakness,  but,  glory  to  God, 
good  was  done  and  I  ended  in  great  power.  The  meeting 
continued  till  eleven  o'clock." 

Three  days  afterwards,  he  notices  his  attendance  at  the 
Sunday-school  in  the  forenoon  ;  and  in  the  afternoon,  that 
he  went  to  arrange  "for  our  new  school  in  Weaver's-hall." 
In  the  evening  of  this  first  Sabbath  in  the  year,  he  went  to 
Whitefriar's-street,  to  hear  his  "  beloved  Mr.  Wood"  preach; 
and  there  he  "  renewed  the  covenant  with  fear  and  trem- 
bling :"  on  reaching  home  he  wrote,  "Eleven  o'clock.  On 
my  way  home  I  was  musing  upon  what  I  had  done  :  saw 
that  I  had  married  myself  to  Christ,  to  take  him  for  better 
for  worse,  through  honor  and  dishonor ;  and  I  saw  the 
beauty  of  that  passage  in  the  Revelation,  '  Behold,  the  Bride- 
groom Cometh  ;  and  the  bride,  the  Lamb's  wife,  hath  made 
herself  ready.'  0,  may  I  be  pure  and  chaste  and  spotless, 
and  worthy  of  this  high  honor.  The  family  were  all  in  bed 
and  I  had  a  fine  opportunity,  which  I  improved  by  fervent 
prayer  ;  my  soul  was  watered  abundantly." 

The  following  evening  at  the  class  he  experienced  a  still 
more  distinct  manifestation  of  the  divine  presence  and  appro- 
bation ;  he  says,  "  Though  I  obscured  myself  in  a  dark  cor- 
ner of  the  meeting,  yet  God  saw  me  and  I  was  called  upon 
to  pray,  though  there  were  many  in  the  meeting  much  more 
able.     I  never  experienced  so  much  freedom  ;   I  have  reason 


44  REV.    JOHN   SUMMEKFIKLD. 

to  believe  it  was  owned  of  God;  three  souls  were  set  at 
liberty  '  from  the  bondage  of  their  sins.'  "  At  the  conclusion 
of  this  day,  after  having  prayed  three  times  in  public,  he 
exclaims,  •'  Where  will  all  this  end  ?"  The  next  day  he  was 
unanimously  voted  a  member  of  the  "  Praying  Association," 
which  engagement  required  that  he  should  exercise  his  gift 
publicly  in  the  chapels,  as  well  as  in  private  houses  ;  upon 
receiving  his  appointment  for  Cork-street  chapel,  he  repeats 
the  exclamation,  "  Where  wiU  this  end  ?"  When  the  season 
for  his  public  officiation  in  the  chapel  arrived,  his  apprehen- 
sions were  disappointed ;  he  not  only  felt  liberty  but  com- 
fort. This  prepared  him  for  the  next  turn  when,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  local  arrangements,  his  duty  required  him  to 
ascend  the  reading-desk  :  he  had  never  before  been  so  con- 
spicuously elevated,  and  experienced  in  consequence  a  good 
deal  of  agitation.  Having  a  slight  impediment  in  his  speech,, 
he  was  apprehensive  that  he  might  stammer  in  giving  out 
the  hymn.  But  he  found  how  true  was  the  divme  assur- 
ance, "  Cast  thy  burden  upon  the  Lord,  and  he  shall  sustain 
thee  ;"  he  felt  no  hesitation,  and  much  good  was  done. 

He  next  ventured  to  speak  his  experience  at  a  "  fellow- 
ship-meeting ;"  and  on  the  18th  of  January,  at  the  instance 
of  his  "  dear  class  companion,"  he  was  induced  to  give  a 
brief  extemporary  exhortation  at  the  conclusion  of  a  prayer- 
meeting,  held  in  Sweeney's-lane.  To  use  his  own  words, 
"  I  arose  with  fear  and  trembling  ;  it  was  the  first  time  that 
ever  I  exhorted,"  so  formally,  he  means,  "in  public  or 
private.  Glory  to  God,  he  was  my  mouth,  and  though  I 
feared  the  impediment  in  my  speech,  I  found  no  efiect  from 
it.  I  sung  and  prayed,  and  i  believe  good  was  done."  Thus, 
in  the  short  space  of  three  weeks,  this  sincere  and  zealous 
disciple  of  the  Lord  Jesus  graduated  from  the  first  public 
exercise  of  his  talents  in  an  obscure  prayer-meeting,  to  the 
earliest  display  of  those  higher  pulpit  qualifications,  for  which 
he  became  afterwards  so  preeminently  distinguished.     It  is 


EFFORTS  TO   DO  GOOD.  AG 

a  case  happily  illustrative  of  that  peculiarity  in  the  system 
of  Methodism,  which  provides  for  the  development  and  oc- 
cupancy of  whatever  degrees  of  piety  or  intelligence  may  be 
possessed  by  any  of  its  members. 

Many  persons  will  doubtless  be  inclined  to  regard  this 
rapid  advancement  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Summerfield  either  as 
very  presumptuous  or  very  precocious.  Some  of  his  slower- 
paced  contemporaries  were  not  slack  in  exercising  this  pre- 
rogative :  without,  however,  the  slightest  disposition  to  im- 
pute improper  motives  to  these  inquisitors,  it  is  gratifying  to 
know  that  the  subject  of  them  was  not  only  not  offended, 
but  that  he  evinced  at  once  his  growth  in  grace  as  well  as 
m  gifts,  by  the  spirit  and  manner  in  which  he  received — 
perhaps  wholesome — animadversions.  Those  who  were  fond 
of  order  in  the  prayer-meetings  charged  him  with  being  "too 
enthusiastic  ;"  and,  which  grieved  him  the  mostj^jrofessed 
to  doubt  whether  he  had  even  "experienced  the  pardon  of 
his  sins."  These  allegations  induced  him  to  exclaim  in 
secret,  "'God,  thou  knowcst  my  heart.  Thy  glory  is  the  sole 
end  I  have  in  view ;"  and  the  next  day,  after  studying  the 
Scriptures  for  two  hours,  he  adds,  "  This  day  I  have  been 
more  earnest  at  the  throne  of  grace  than  ever  I  was  before. 
I  have  prayed  six  or  seven  times  at  great  length  that  I 
might  not  be  deceived,  and  felt  my  soul  melted  down  in  the 
furnace  of  love." 

At  this  period,  besides  attending  to  numerous  religious 
engagements  and  studying  the  holy  Scriptures  systematically 
and  almost  incessantly,  h&  was  employed  in  various  house- 
hold duties,  which  his  past  indiscretions  having  contributed 
to  impose,  his  present  humility  influenced  him  to  perform. 
He  likewise  devoted  a  certain  portion  of  each  day  to  the  edu- 
cation of  his  younger  sisters ;  and  withal,  attended  to  the 
settlement  of  various  accounts  connected  with  his  father's 
concerns.  The  adjudication  of  these  afikirs  was  irksome  to 
his  spiritual  sensibility,  by  bringing  him  into  contact  with 


46  REV.   JOHN   SITMMERFIELD. 

persons  and  circumstances  urigeiiial  to  the  growth  of  piety  ; 
and  in  one  instance  especially  he  very  narrowly  escaped  an 
unpleasant  exposure  in  connection  with  the  marshalsea. 
His  own  account  of  this  accident  is  as  follows  :  "  I  had  this 
day  a  miraculous  interposition  of  divine  aid  ;  I  was  in  a 

strait,  owing  to  some  error  I  had  committed  in 's 

business,  confined  in  the  marshalsea,  which  would  have 
remanded  him.  I  cried  unto  the  Lord,  and  he  delivered  me. 
He  caused  that  the  mistake  was  not  perceived  by  the  officer 
of  the  court,  though  seven  persons  were  remanded  for  a  far 
less  trifling  mistake.  I  wdll  glorify  thy  name,  0  Lord  my 
God." 

The  custom  oi  ivaking  with  the  dead,  although  of  great 
antiquity  and  extensively  prevalent  in  L-eland,  is  so  fre- 
quently connected  with  social  broils,  and  other  circumstances 
of  indecorum,  that  it  would  be  much  "more  honored  by  the 
breach  'than  the  observance."  This  practice,  however,  is 
not  confined  either  to  the  poor  or  the  ignorant ;  and  the  sub- 
joined passage  from  Mr.  Summerfield's  diary  at  this  period, 
will  show  that  even  such  an  observance  may  be  turned  to 
spiritual  account :  "Eleven  o'clock,  I  went  to  a  wake  of  a 
dear  brother,  who  had  died  the  day  before  in  the  Lord.  Five 
of  our  brethren  accompanied  me  ;  we  sat  up  all  niglit ;  the 
room  was  filled  with  a  mixed  society,  Catliolics  and  others  : 
we  redeemed  the  time.  Having  obtained  the  consent  of  the 
relations  of  the  deceased,  we  commenced  singing  a  hymn, 
which  is  a  most  unheard-of  thing  on  these  occasions,  the 
time  being  usually  spent  in  mirth.  I  then  went  to  prayer: 
after  this  we  spent  the  night  between  singing  and  ])raying, 
and  exhorting  and  religious  conversation,  and  our  little  labors 
were  owned  of  God.  Some  were  struck  by  his  word  and 
wept  aloud.     Glory  to  God."  *  *  ^^ 

Filial  obedience  is  a  most  excellent  and  much  too  rarely 
practised  Christian  virtue.  It  is  not  only  the  "first  com- 
mandment with  promise"  in  the  law  of  God,  but  happily 


EFFORTS  TO   DO  GOOD.  47 

one  of  the"  rnoai  beautiful  and  early  instincts  of  our  nature. 
Alas,  how  soon  does  the  depravity  of  the  human  heart  man- 
ifest itself  in  rebellion  against  parental  authority  ;  and  it  is 
a  no  less  painful  truth,  that  frequently  the  spiritual  children 
of  God  fail  rightly  to  reverence  their  earthly  parents.  It  is 
indeed  matter  of  lamentation  to  see  hovv^  many  fathers  and 
mothers,  instead  of  themselves  obeying  the  divine  injunction 
to  bring  up  their  children  "in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of 
the  Lord,"  seem  rather  willing,  by  their  negligence,  to  re- 
lease their  oflspring  from  this  paramount  duty.  It  has 
already  been  shown  that  the  elder  Mr.  Summerfield  was  a 
man  of  God  :  to  the  utmost  of  his  ability  he  brought  up  his 
children  in  the  w-ay  that  they  should  go.  His  son  John, 
especially  after  his  co^iversion,  not  only  duly  reverenced  his 
father  as  such,  but  regarded  him  as  a  Christian  professor  of 
rare  and  ripe  experience.  He  appears,  however,  to  have 
inclined  towards  a  degree  of  strictness  with  reference  to  the 
subject  of  these  memoirs,  which  might  be  partially  attribu- 
table to  the  past  misconduct  of  the  latter. 

At  prayer-meetings,  and  other  means  of  grace,  as  well 
as  in  religious  conversation  with  Christian  friends,  Mr.  Sum- 
merfield was  sometimes  detained  until  a  late  hour  in  the 
evening  :  this  exposed  him  to  the  dissatisfaction  and  remon- 
strances of  his  father,  who  had  generally  on  these  occasions 
to  sit  up,  or  rise  from  his  bed  to  let  him  into  the  house. 
"While  the  diary  before  me  contains  towards  the  commence- 
ment of  his  spiritual  career  some  entries — generally  com- 
punctious— on  this  side  of  the  question,  it  presents  correla- 
tively  and  throughout  innumerable  records  of  the  most  deli- 
cate and  afiectionate  expressions  of  filial  admiration  as  well 
as  respect. 

"January  24.  At  family  prayer  this  evening,  the  close 
of  the  week,  my  soul  was  well  watered.  My  father  returned 
thanks  most  beautifully  for  the  mercies  of  the  past  year, 
which  was  spent  in  Lower  Mount-street  ;   and  most  pathet- 


/!8  REV.    JOHN   SITMMERFIELD. 

ically  imjjlored  Jehovah  to  dwell  with  us  iii^this'liousc,  not 
as  a  transient  guest,  but  as  a  stationary  friend.  In  survey- 
ing the  past  year,  1  am  lost  in  thought ;  the  arm  of  the 
Almighty  has  been  made  bare  on  our  behalf,  and  has 
wrought  miraculous  deliverances  for  us.  We  have  known 
the  want  of  bread  last  year,  and  yet  in  this  state  our  neces- 
sity proved  the  Lord's  opportunity.  0,  my  Father,  if  my 
soul  ever  forget  thee,  may  my  right-hand  Ibrget  her  cuu- 
ning.  0,  that  all  men  would  praise  the  Lord  for  his  won- 
drous works,  and  for  his  loving-kindness  to  the  children  of 
men.  For  my  own  part,  my  heart  is  this  evening  ready  to 
burst  with  a  gust  of  his  praise.     Glory,  glory,  glory." 

"  Sunday,  January  25.  This  being  the  first  morning 
in  our  new  abode,  and  also  the  morning  of  the  Lord's  own 
day,  my  dear  parent  dedicated  it  to  His  service,  whose  it 
properly  was.  My  soul  was  melted  down,  and  I  hope 
received  more  of  the  heavenly  mould.  I  remarked  that 
my  father  was  specially  thankful  to  God  for  afflictions — 
nay,  he  even  prayed  to  be  further  chastised  if  God  saw  it 
expedient,  that  he  might  be  drawn  nearer  and  nearer  to 
his  Father.  How  unlike  many  professor.?,  who  repine  at 
these  things — and  even  I,  Oh,  what  a  lesson  have  I  to 
learn." 

It  is  painful  to  shade  so  beautiful  a  picture  of  family  re- 
ligion with  the  following  passage,  referring  to  the  evening  of 
the  same  day:  "Eleven  o'clock,  arrived  home — the  family 
all  in  bed.  And  now  a  scene  occurred  which  stole  from  me 
every  blessing  I  had  got  to-day.  Satan  truly  presented 
himself  to  me  as  an  angel  of  light  in  this  temptation.  My 
father  reproved  me  for  being  out  until  so  late  an  hour,  and 
tlireatened  the  consequences  if  I  continued  in  the  practice. 
It  was  suggested  to  my  mind  by  the  author  of  all  evil,  that 
I  was  suffering  for  the  cause  of  Christ.  The  bait  was  well 
gilded:  I  swallowed  it.  With  this  idea,  I  returned  some 
very  improper  answers  1o  niy  dear  parent,  which  wounded 


EFFORTS   TO  DO  GOOD.  49 

him  ill  the  teiiderest  part ;  he  not  knowing  that  I  was  con- 
nected with  any  prayer-niceting." 

For  the  first  time  since  his  conversion  he  retired  to  rest 
without  prayer.  He  rose  at  seven  next  moming,  "  but  couhl 
not  pray :"  he  felt  that  he  had  grieved  the  Holy  Spirit,  and 
saw  that  he  had  fallen  ;  and  his  compunctious  visitations 
derived  an  additional  pang  from  the  fiict,  that  although  it 
was  his  duty  to  have  apologized  to  his  father,  his  father 
almost  apologized  to  him.  His  mind  was  in  a  mo.st  abject 
and  distressed  state  ;  he  felt  he  had  sufieretl  loss  in  his  soul ; 
and  could  not  even  bring  his  mind  to  go  to  his  class  in  the 
evening,  but  early  retired  to  bed.  In  a  dream  of  the  night 
he  was  particularly  impressed  with  this  passage  :  "  If  any 
man  sin,  we  have  an  advocate  with  the  Fatlicr,  even  Jesus 
Christ  the  righteous."  He  rose  early  next  morning,  con- 
vinced that  this  was  a  monition  from  God ;  took  courage 
and  instantly  set  about  recovering  the  happiness  he  had  lost. 
He  attended  the  soldiers'  prayer-meeting  in  the  evening, 
"and  again  tasted  that  the  Lord  was  gracious." 

On  the  3 1st  of  January  he  writes  thus :  "  This  is  my  birth- 
day. When  I  take  a  survey  of  the  mercies  of  my  past  life, 
and  consider  my  poor  returns,  I  am  sunk  in  the  deepest  hu- 
mility before  my  God  and  Father.  But  I  now  give  myself 
anew  to  his  service ;  I  feel  I  am  not  my  own ;  and  as  I  am 
this  day  at  that  maturity  which  the  world  calls  of  age, 
when  we  cease  to  be  children,  I  am  fully  determined  to 
cease  to  be  a  child  of  the  devil's  any  longer.  My  father 
gave  me  most  loving  advice  to-day.  0,  may  I  improve  by 
so  good  precepts." 


50  EEV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 


CHAPTER    V. 

STUDIES  INCESSANTLY— THINKS  ABOUT  THE  CHRISTIAN  MINIS- 
TRY—HEALTH VERY  DELICATE— RELIGIOUS  EXPERIENCE- AR- 
DENT PIETY. 

The  man  who  illustrates  by  his  own  practice  a  mode  ol' 
cultivation  by  which  two  acres  of"  ground  may  be  made  to 
produce  twice  as  much  as  they  did  before,  is  really  a  greater 
benefactor  to  mankind  than  he  who  shall  discover  an  island 
of  two  thousand  acres  extent,  with  but  little  prospect  of  its 
ever  being  cultivated  to  any  good  purpose  at  all.  So  the 
individual  whose  religious  experience  exhibits  most  explicitly 
and  successfully  the  progress  of  that  groAvth  in  grace,  and 
the  manifestation  of  those  "fruits  of  righteousness,"  that 
"peace  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost,"  which  are  expected  to 
distinguish  every  true  believer  in  Christ  Jesus  :  such  indi- 
vidual does  more  towards  recommending  the  cultivation  of 
evangelical  virtue  among  mankind,  than  he  who  presents 
unexpected  peculiarities  of  Christian  character.  In  the 
moral,  as  in  the  material  world,  there  exist,  doubtless,  im- 
mense tracts  of  terra  incog)iita ;  but  both,  in  a  certain 
sense,  appear  to  have  their  limits  :  and  it  is  as  frequently 
the  case  that  great  men  are  the  creatures  of  circumstances, 
as  that  they  are  the  voluntary  creators  of  their  own  high 
destinies.  If  Summerfield  had  been  born  in  the  dawn  of 
Christianity,  he  might  have  been  an  apostle ;  a  century  or 
tAVo  later,  he  might  have  won  the  crown  of  martyrdom  ;  as 
the  contemporary  of  Luther,  he  might  have  been  a  reformer : 
on  the  other  hand,  had  Columbus  been  the  coAtemporary  of 
Cooke,  he  might,  like  him,  have  circumnavigated  the  globe, 
and  witli  him  discovered  sundry  groups  of  islands  in  the  vast 
Pacific  ;  a  hundred  years  later  he  might,  with  Parry,  have 
penetrated  towards  the  pole.  It  is  said  might,  in  the  fore- 
going assumptions,  beoause  in  bolh  eases  the  spirit  was  the 


DESIRE   FOR  THE   MINISTRY.  51 

same,  but  its  operation  was  limited  as  well  as  modified  by 
circumstances.  A  greater  than  Columbus  may  bo  born, 
but  the  world  probably  does  not  contain  an  unexplored  tract 
large  enough  to  immortalize  his  discovery  :  a  greater  than 
St.  Paul  may  be  converted,  but — and  with  reverence  be  it 
spoken — Christianity  has  not  an  untilled  field  equal  to  that 
which  lay  before  the  apostle  of  the  Gentiles. 

These  remarks  are  suggested,  perhaps  gratuitously  enough, 
by  the  acknowledged  fact  that  the  diary  of  Mr.  Summerfield, 
although  rich  in  the  memorials  of  happy  experience,  must 
nevertheless  be  regarded  as  comparatively  poor  in  incident. 
This  lack  of  what  the  world  looks  for  as  "spirit-stirring" 
matter,  is  abundantly  compensated  to  the  Christian  reader 
by  the  very  circumstance  of  its  details  consisting  mainly  of 
what  may  be  deemed  the  every-day  trials  of  faith  and  pa- 
tience, and  overflowings  of  love  and  gratitude — which  self- 
observers,  who  converse  much  with  their  own  hearts,  know 
well  how  to  appreciate  in  one  another.  Nor  is  it  perhaps 
either  quite  fair  to  the  subject,  nor  absolutely  required  by 
honesty,  to  concede  even  so  much.  Events  which,  from 
their  romance  or  rarity  of  occurrence,  or  the  magnitude  of 
their  operations,  are  so  absorbing  in  many  narratives  of 
merely  worldly  interest,  leave  nevertheless,  in  most  cases, 
but  a  fugitive  impression  ;  while  in  that  little  world  of 
thought  and  feeling  which  lies  within  the  circumference  of 
every  human  heart,  there  are  incidents  perpetually  transpir- 
ing unobserved  by  the  great  Avorld  without,  but  which  are 
of  universal  interest,  either  as  developing  moral  phenomena, 
or  as  having  a  general  connection  with  the  hopes,  the  fears, 
the  joys  and  the  sorrows,  the  aims  and  the  enterprises  of  all 
mankind. 

It  has  already  been  intimated  how  assiduously  and  un- 
remittingly Mr.  Summerfield  at  this  time  applied  himself  to 
the  systematic  study  of  the  holy  Scriptures,  in  connection 
with  the  usual  ('.xpositors  of  sacred  literature.     Under  the 


52  E.EV.   JOHN   SITMMERFIELD. 

date  of  February  12,  1818,  he  writes,  "This  day  I  purpose 
getting  a  jlmt.  aiul  steel,  as  my  fire  is  so  often  out  that  I 
am  obHged  to  lie  in  bed  till  daylight,  as  was  the  case  this 
morning."  On  what  small  things  frequently  depend  our 
convenience,  our  happiness,  nay,  the  most  important  issues 
of  life  itself  The  purchase  of  a  flint  and  steel  for  a  few 
pence  added  at  least  two  hours  to  his  day  during  the  winter 
months.  Time  is  often  cheaply  sold,  sold  for  naught ;  here 
it  was  cheaply  bought :  the  value  of  the  bargain  to  Sum- 
merfield  he  noiv  knows  far  better  than  he  did  at  the  time, 
highly  as  he  prized  it ;  for  every  moment  well  employed  on 
earth  has  its  record  and  its  reward  in  eternity.  How  much 
his  usefulness  on  earth  may  have  been  improved  by  this 
recovery  of  time — the  most  precious  talent,  next  to  the  grace 
of  God  to  use  it  well — it  is  vain  to  speculate  now.  But  let 
nobody  who  reads  of  this  simple  incident,  despise  it ;  let  no- 
body be  'afraid  or  ashamed  to  go  and  do  likewise — to  go  and 
buy  as  much  time,  whether  by  the  sacrifice  of  sixpence,  or 
of  an  idle  habit  or  a  mischievous  indulgence,  as  will  purchase 
much  temporal,  spiritual,  and  eternal  enjoyment.  It  appears 
^  that  he  was  now  in  the  habit  of  rising  between  four  and  five 
in  the  morning  to  his  studies,  and  rarely  retiring  until  near 
midnight. 

"  Feb.  13.  After  private  prayer,  house  matters,  an  hour 
and  a  half  studying  Romans,  read  Young's  Night  Thoughts 
till  ten ;  breakfast,  etc.,  till  quarter  past  ten,  when  I  resumed, 
studying  Romans  unceasingly  till  halfpast  twelve.  Rec- 
reated in  domestic  affairs  till  one  o'clock.  Resumed,  and 
continued  unremittingly  until  a  quarter  before  three;  dined, 
etc.,  etc.;  half-past  three  again  resumed  the  Romans, 'at 
which  continued  until  half-past  five,  with  an  intermission 
of  half  an  hour,  during  whieli  time  my  beloved  John,  my 
[class]  leader,  visited  me.  Halfpast  five  to  halfpast  six, 
prepared  to  go  out,  domestic  affairs,  and  private  prayer ;  then 
went  to  the  soldiers'  prayer-meeting;  fron\whioh  I  returned 


DESIRE   FOR   TlIE   MINISTRY.  53 

a  quarter  before  eij^ht ;  then  supper,  and  Ironi  half-past  eight 
to  half-past  ten  studied  Prideaux's  Connections,  vol.  3.  My 
iather  not  come  honie,  alarmed  me,  and  so  unhinged  my 
mind  that  I  could  read  no  more  ;  I  sent  the  children  to  bed, 
and  spent  an  hour  in  prayer  to  God,  and  serious  self-exami- 
nation. About  half-past  eleven  my  father  came  in,  and  at 
twelve  I  went  to  bed.  I  watered  my  pillow  with  tears  of 
love  to  my  sweet  Jesus,  and  closed  my  eyes  as  if  in  his 
arms."  The  foregoing  is  a  fair  sample  of  his  diurnal  occu- 
pations at  this  period,  especially  if  we  add  to  it  the  reading 
of  Boss'  Antiquities  of  Greece,  and  such  items  as  the  follow- 
ing :  "My  father  then  came  in;  dined,  and  spent  an  hour 
in  conversing  with  him  on  7th  Romans."  *  *  * 

The  aspirations  of  Mr.  Summerfield's  mind  were  almost 
exclusively  turned  towards  the  work  of  GotI,  and  his  ardor 
in  devotional  exercises  M'as  so  absorbing,  that  the  interven- 
tion of  merely  secular  duties  was  not  only  cold  and  uninter- 
esting, but  was  frequently  regarded  as  damping  his  spiritual 
enjoyment.  Indeed,  the  following  entries  show  with  what 
reluctance  he  engaged  in  worldly  conversation.  "Prayer- 
meeting  in  Park-gate  street ;  Jesus  was  as  good  as  his 
promise ;   we  were  all  blessed.     When  I  came  home,  my 

father  chid  me  for  my  neglect  in and 's  business ; 

my  mind  was  so  unhinged  I  could  not  study  for  some  time ; 
however,  we  had  family  pniyer."  "  Went  over  to  the  mar- 
shal's, where  I  was  detained  on  business  till  near  one.     1 

then  called  on  Wm. in  street,  and  Avas  pressed 

into  the  parlor,  where  were  two  ladies,  in  whose  copipany  I 
spent  two  hours.  I  feel  it  was  wrong ;  my  soul  suflered 
loss  by  it."  How  tender  Avas  his  conscience.  Few  persons 
could  see  any  sin  in  spending  two  hours  in  respectable  soci- 
ety ;  nor  perhaps  was  it  otherwise  wrong,  than  as  .he  felt 
it  so  much  time  lost  from  communion  with  God.  How  few 
even  of  his  fathers  in  the  gospel  would  have  manifested  such 
sensibility ;   and  to  how  many  who  might   be  disposed  to 


54  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

chide  lam  for  it  as  a  weakness  might  the  young  disciple 
reply,  in  the  words  of  the  Saviour  when  twelve  years  of 
age,  "Wist  ye  not  that  I  must  be  about  my  father's  busi- 
ness ?" 

March  1,  in  ihe  morning,  alter  having  spent  three  hours 
in  self-examination  and  prayer,  he  writes,  "  1  look  lor  a  spe- 
cial blessing  from  heaven  to-day."  In  the  forenoon,  "My 
sold  is  like  liquid  gold  this  morning  :  it  is  softened  by 
love  ;  Oh,  Father,  now  lay  on  tny  blessed  seal."  At  eleven 
o'clock,  "Went  to  Sunday-school,  which  I  opened  by  prayer; 
came  away  along  with  and  ,  but  I  find  an  un- 
speakable loss  in  my  soul  in  consequence  ;  their  conversation 
was  of  that  loose  and  almost  indecorous  nature,  that  I  find 
I  have  lost  my  centre  by  mixing  Avith  them,  and  am  quite 

imfit  for  religious  duties."     Again:    "Went  to  's  on 

business  for  my  father ;  they  are  an  ungodly  family ;  I  have 
lost  by  my  visit  ;  a  lady  was  there,  who  compelled  me  to 
wrhe  an  acrostic  extempore.  I  was  to  blame  for  yielding." 
Next  morning,  he  exclaims,  "  0  that  I  had  not  paid  that 
worldly  visit  last  night."  Thus  anxious  was  he  to  respect 
that  excellent  rule,  of  Methodistic  discipline,  "Be  serious; 
let  your  motto  be,  Ilolitiess.  to  the  Lord.  Avoid  all  light- 
ness, jesting,  and  foolish  talking." 

At  tills  period  his  health  Avas  very  delicate,  and  he  was 
especially  subject  to  a  grievous  headache  ;  this,  united  M'ith 
tlie  intensity  of  his  studies,  and  the  apparent  necessity  that 
existed  for  him  to  set  about  helping  his  father  in  some  way, 
induced  him  to  think  of  giving  up  the  management  of  prayer- 
meetings  ;  and  for  some  I'cason  which  does  not  so  clearly 
appear,  his  attendance  at  class  also  :  still,  howevei-,  he 
resolved  to  continue  to  pray  that  he  might  know  the  will 
of  God  concerning  him,  and  especially  with  reference  to  the 
ministry. 

Having  experienced  considerable  relief  to  his  head  in 
consequence  of  following  the  example  of  Mr.  Wesley,  who 


DJiSlKK    FUR   THE    MliN'lSIRY.  i')5 

under  similar  circunistauces  consented  to  have  his  long  hair 
cut  ofi',  he  still  continued  his  usual  attendance  at  the  means 
of  grace.  In  one  instance  he  observes,  "I  gave  the  whole 
five  shillings  [part  of  which  was  borrowed]  to  my  class. 
Whether  right  or  wrong,  I  know  not ;  but  my  poor  heait 
pitied  Zion.  Only  six  members  attended  it.  1  was  fpute 
dispirited,  and  got  no  blessing  under  the  means  ;  my  mind 
is  now,  on  this  account,  fully  removed  from  all  thoughts  of 
the  ministry  ;  and  I  informed  my  father  that  I  was  bent  on 
assisting  him  at  his  business."  This  is  the  first  time  of  his 
naming  the  ministry  in  his  journal  as  an  object  of  contem- 
plation with  him ;  but  it  is  evidently  a  memorandum  of 
only  one  of  the  conflicts  in  his  mind  on  this  point,  and  the 
despondhig  result  of  many  a  previous  one.  God,  however, 
whose  thoughts  are  not  as  our  thoughts,  and  whose  ways  are 
not  as  our  ways,  so  far  from  being  about  to  desert  his  faith- 
ful servant  to  the  errors  of  his  own  imagination,  appears  rather 
by  this  process  to  have  been  humbling  hiin  preparatory  to 
the  display  of  more  distinguishing  spiritual  revelations. 

On  the  Sunday  following,  he  went  to  the  fellowship- 
meeting  in  Gravel- walk.  "  A  better  time  -was  never  remem- 
bered ;  several  were  set  at  liberty.  I  sung,  prayed,  and  ex- 
horted. My  cup  did  indeed  run  over."  Next  evening  he 
adds,  "  "Went  to  my  class.  I  am  astonished  at  the  goodness 
of  God  :  He  makes  my  cup  run  over.  I  concluded  by  prayer, 
and  the  Lord  owned  me  tcojidcrfullij ;  many  declared  it  was 
the  best  class  we  ever  had.  God  can  raise  up  stones  to 
praise  him."  Mr.  Summerfield  from  his  childhood  mani- 
fested a  disposition  the  reverse  of  stoical,  and  this  he  mainly 
inherited  from  his  father.  Strong  feelings  were  famiUar  to 
him — high  enjoyments  or  deep  distress — his  cup  running 
over  with  sweetness  or  with  bitterness.  These  very  frames, 
so  exquisitely  quick  to  feel  and  to  be  moved  by  every  touch 
of  joy  or  woe,  gave  his  whole  subsequent  life — especially  in 
his  ministerial  labors — its  peculiar  character,  and  constituted 


56  REV.   JOHN    SUM.MERFIELD. 

him  the  preachci-  who  could  by  sympathy  raise  the  most 
powerful  and  passionate  emotions  iu  his  audiences. 

The  exercises  of  his  mind  were  at  this  time  very  vio- 
lent— feeling  as  he  did  a  desire  to  be  devoted  wholly  to  the 
service  of  God,  and  at  the  same  time  a  necessity  laid  upon 
him  to  give  more  of  his  attention  to  some  kind^  of  secular 
labor.  Still,  however,  he  clung  close  to  the  rock  of  his 
help  :  towards  the  middle  of  March  he  thus  records  his 
lamentation  and  his  resolution  :  "  How  little  have  I  studied 
in  the  past  week:  I  am  resolved  to  give  new  edge  to  my 
exertions." 

"Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find,"  is 
the  language  of  Him  who  holds  the  dispensation  of  all  spir- 
itual blessings  ;  and  Summerfleld  was  not  one  who  pleaded 
coldly  or  unbelievingly  lor  any  of  the  precious  promises  of 
the  gospel ;  and  on  this  occasion  especially,  he  experienced 
a  new  and  deep  baptism  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Being  on  a 
Sunday  afternoon,  with  a  few  other  religious  persons,  at  the 
house  of  a  friend,  he  writes,  "I  was  never  in  my  life  pos- 
sessed of  such  feelings.  While  sitting  in  silence,  the  words, 
'I  have  loved  thee  with  an  everlasting  love,'  flashed  into  my 
mind  in  so  sweet  a  manner  that  I  could  not  contain  :  I  burst 
into  tears  ;  all  wondered  at  the  cause  ;  a  hymn-book  was 
handed  me  ;  I  sung  and  prayed ;  and  that  night  I  received 
an  unction  from  the  Holy  One.  Glory  be  to  Jesus."  "When 
he  awoke  next  morning,  he  "found  the  fire  alive  within: 
the  love  was  burning."  At  half-past  six  he  went  to  the 
prayer-meeting,  where,  says  he,  "  my  soul  was  so  overpow- 
ered with  the  love  of  Jesus,  that  I  wept  amain.  I  was 
oflen  inclined  to  go  out,  that  I  miglit  roar  out  the  paiitings 
of  my  soul.  For  the  first  time,  dear  brother  M'Dowall 
called  on  me  to  pray.  I  scarcely  could  utter  words  for 
weeping ;  but  my  heart  was  full,  full,  full.  Many  will  re- 
member the  morning." 

The  habitual  tendency  of  his  soul  towards  the  object  of 


DESIRE    iuil    iilE   MINISTRY.  57 

its  supreme  love  is  striliiiigly  indicated  by  such  entries  as 
the  following:  "Being  alone,  I  snatched  the  opportunity 
and  spent  half  an  hour  in  secret  intercourse  with  heaven. 
0,  tliat  I  could  pray  always.  Three  to  five,  unceasingly 
studied  Taylor's  Key.  Being  again  left  alone,  I  snatched 
another  half  hour  to  converse  with  my  Beloved."  "My  sis- 
ters went  out,  and  Jesus  did  certainly  spend  those  three 
hours  with  me."  What  blessed  opportunities  were  these  to 
him,  when  the  members  of  the  family  were  all  absent  and 
he  was  left  alone,  yet  not  alone,  for  Jesus  made  his  sweetest 
visits  to  him  then,  as  himself  testifies :  "My  sisters  arc  gone 
to  spend  the  day  out,  and  I  am  alone  with  Jesus." 

Summerfield  tcatched — lay  in  wait,  as  it  were,  for  S2)e- 
cial  opportunities  for  private  devotion,  when  he  could  unin- 
terruptedly cry  aloud  in  prayer  to  God.  How  much  have 
they  to  answer  for  to  their  own  souls,  who  never  enter  into 
their  closets,  shut  t.o  the  door,  and  pray  to  their  Father 
which  seeth  in  secret ;  or  if  they  do,  slink  from  secular  en- 
gagements to  this  duty  as  to  a  task,  and  come  away,  not 
lightened  of  a  burdened  conscience,  but  as  if  released  from 
a  penance  necessary  to  keep  conscience  quiet  under  its  bur- 
den. 0  what  a  mercy  it  is  to  feel  that  burden  intol- 
erable ;  to  lie  down  under  it  at  the  Redeemer's  feet,  like 
the  woman  who  was  a  siimer,  and  though  we  speak  not  a 
word  for  shame  and  sorrow,  determine  never  to  rise  again 
till  he  says,  "Tliy  sins,  Avhich  are  many,  are  forgiven  thee  :" 
at  least,  never  till  we  know  that  we  are  sincerely  and  with 
our  whole  heart  asking  the  blessing,  and  believing  that  we 
shall  have  it  according  to  our  faith,  in  the  Lord's  time. 
That  time  indeed  is  now — for  all  His  time  is  now,  who  is 
"the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever;"  but  sometimes 
ours  is  "not  yet."  Even  then  when  he  comes  to  deliver, 
He  may  say  to  us,  with  the  rebuke  of  kindness,  "0  ye  of 
little  faith,  wherefore  did  ye  doubt?" 

A  few  miscellaneous  entries  from  his  diary  at  this  time, 


58  REV.   JOHN    SUMMERFIELD. 

may  be  with  propriety  introduced  here.  "Spent  two  hours 
in  reading  Clarke,  and  discoursing  on  it  with  my  father, 
from  whom  I  received  more  hght  than  from  the  doctor." 
This  commentary  was  a  great  favorite  with  him,  and  "un- 
ceasingly studied  "  at  this  time.  The  truly  spiritual  writings 
of  Fletcher,  however,  were  still  more  deeply  interesting  to 
iiim  ;  and  it  is  not  too  much  to  suppose  that  his  whole  soul 
and  character  received  a  very  powerful  bent  from  the  con- 
templation of  this  able  and  pious  author.  He  devoted  some 
time  to  the  "learning  of  short-hand,  trusting  that  it  might 
he  of  use,"  and  likewise  "exercised  on  the  piano."  His 
taste  for  music  had  been  cherished,  if  not  contracted,  at  the 
Moravian  seminary  ;  and  might  justly  be  cultivated  as  an 
accomplishment  not  without  many  advantages  to  a  preacher. 
With  reference  to  stenography,  he  appears  either  not  to  have 
studied  it  successfully,  or  to  have  abandoned  it  as  inconven- 
ient in  practice,  as  no  traces  of  it  are  observable  among  his 
papers ;  a  circumstance  of  no  regret  to  his  biographer,  who, 
whatever  be  his  opinion  of  its  utility  in  many  cases,  feels 
glad  that  he  is  absolved  from  the  task  of  decypheriag  it  in 
this.  "March  22,  went  to  Werberg's  church,  and  i^or  the 
first  time  received  the  memorials  of  the  death  of  my  Lord. 
It  was  to  me  a  most  solemn  occasion,  and  I  could  indeed  feel- 
ingly say  with  the  poet, 

'  My  Jesus  to  know,  and  fed  his  blood  How, 
'Tis  life  everlasting — 'tis  heaven  below.'  " 

Being  invited  to  take  breakfast  out,  he  observes,  "As  I 
purposed  this  day  to  mortify  the  body,  I  took  two  cups  of 
tea  ;  afterwards  was  called  on  to  pray — all  the  family  were 
asseiTibled."  At  noon,  he  adds,  after  studying  for  two  hours 
Clarke  on  the  Hebrews,  "The  family  then  going  to  dine,  I 
walked  out  pursuant  to  my  design,  and  went  to  the  Park ; 
having  found  a  sequestered  spot,  I  wrestled  with  God  till 
near  four  o'clock,  and  was  greatly  blessed.  Returned  home, 
and  after  domestic  matters,  went  to  the  soldiers'  meeting, 


DESJRE   FOR   THE   M1NJ.STRY.  59 

where  I  sung  and  prayed."  After  reading  the  foregoing 
memorial  of"  his  fast,  and  when  we  recollect  that  his  retire- 
ment to  the  park  was  in  the  cold  month  of  March,  we  can- 
not, without  being  aflected,  meet  with  the  following  item 
about  a  fortnight  afterwards  :  "April  12.  This  is  my  dear 
father's  birthday,  aged  forty-eight.  Dined  on  cocoa,  as  we 
had  no  money.     It  is  much  better  than  we  deserve."  *  *  * 


(30  KEV.    JOHN    SUMMERFlIiLi). 


CHAPTER  VI. 

KKCE1VK.U  AS  A  LOCAL  ITtKACIIER— «l'lKlTUAIi  KXKKCISES— vi,S 
ITS  FOR  THE  "STRANGERS'  FRIEND  SOCIETY ''—ANXIETIES 
ABOUT  HIS  MINISTERIAL  C2VLL— EXCESSIVE  FASTING— REMOVAL 
TO  CORK— ENTIRE  DEVOTEDNESS  TO  GOD. 

We  now-  come  to  contemplate  Mr.  Summevfield  in  his 
introduction  to  that  high  and  important  otTice  which  had  so 
long  been  the  object  of  his  ardent  aspirations.  As  a  prayer- . 
leader — as  an  cxhortcr — as  a  visitor  of  the  sick — as  a  Sun- 
day-school teacher — as  a  speaker  at  the  conversation-meet- 
ings of  Christian  brethren — as  a  class-leader — as  a  ricli  and 
fluent  scripturist — and  above  all,  as  a  young  man  of  fervent 
piety  and  of  deep  experience  for  his  years,  Mr.  Sumrnerlield 
was  iustly  esteemed  by  those  of  his  friends  who  were  best 
ucfjuaiuted  with  him,  as  the  possessor  of  gifts  and  graces  far 
above  the  ordinary  rank.  While,  therelbre,  his  youtli  and 
the  oilicial  responsibility  of  his  elders  justilied  the  prudence 
exercised  towards  him,  his  own  conduct  from  the  period  of 
ids  conversion  to  the  termination  of  his  lile,  never  aliorded  a 
single  incident  to  lead  any  individual  to  suspec-t,  much  less 
to  say,  that  his  elevation  had  been  too  precipitate  or  his 
progress  too  rapid. 

It  is  well  known  to  persons  acquainted  with  the  econ- 
omy of  the  Methodist  society,  that  between  the  description 
of  persons  whose  engagements  are  intimated  above,  and  the 
regularly  itinerating  ministers,  there  is  an  important  class 
of  laborers  designated  local iveaclicrs. :  individuals  of  accred- 
ited piety,  whose  mouths  God  has  opened  to  call  sinners  to 
repentance  and  to  declare  to  them  the  salvation  that  is  in 
and  by  Jesus  Christ.  These  men,  unlearned  as  they  often 
are,  deserve  not  oidy  to  be  regai'ded  with  honor  "for  their 
work's  sake,"  but  with  astonishment  on  account  of  the  orig- 


Kli    ENTERS   I'HE    MINISTRY.  61 

inal  talents  and  uncommon  experience  which  many  of  them 
possess — men  who  during  the  week  labor  incessantly  for  the 
bread  that  perisheth,  and  on  the  Sabbath  eloquently  declare 
from  the  pulpit  the  Avonderi'ul  works  of  God. 

In  this  rank  of  preachers,  therefore,  Mr.  Summcrfield 
took  his  place  ;  and  it  was  while  graduating  therein  that 
his  pulpit  ministrations  attracted  towards  him  such  unwont- 
ed popularity.  It  may,  however,  be  interesting  to  notice 
some  of  the  steps  by  which  he  ultimately  as  a  regular 
preacher  ascended  to  the  sacred  dosk._ 

He  had  frequently  delivered  brief  and  occasionally  more 
lengthened  exhortations  at  prayer-meetings  and  elsewhere, 
as  well  as  expatiated  upon  given  passages  of  Scripture  at 
religious  "conversation-meetings;"  but  he  had  never  spoken 
publicly  from  any  text,  until  Thursday  morning,  April  23, 
1818,  when,  being  at  the  six  o'clock  service  at  Gravel- walk 
chapel  in  Dublin,  he  was  called  upon  to  officiate  in  a  more 
formal  manner.  But  his  own  statement  of  the  case,  made 
only  for  his  private  record,  and  in  the  simplicity  of  his  heart, 
will  be  acceptable  :  "Mr.  M'Dowall  commenced  by  singing 
and  prayer,  then  called  me  forward  to  read  and  exhort.  I 
never  spoke  before  from  any  passage  in  the  word  of  God  ; 
this,  then,  was  my  first  attempt.  I  read  part  of  the  fourth 
chapter  of  Paul's  second  epistle  to  Timothy.  My  Master 
was  with  me ;  I  spoke  fluently,  and  though  I  have  a  deil'ct 
in  my  speech,  I  felt  nothing  of  it.  1  take  it  to  be  a  token 
of  good  from  God.  'Whatever  thou  hast  for  me  to  do,  0 
prepare  me  for  it;  only  make  me  a  holy  Christian.'"  His 
second  attempt  was  on  the  Monday  following,  at  the  same 
chapel.  "  I  had,"  says  he,  "  to  carry  on  the  meeting  alone. 
I  sung  twice,  prayed  twice,  and  exhorted  for  about  half  an 
hour  on  the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  verses  of  the  first 
chapter  of  Ephcsians  ;  this  is  my  second  attempt,  though 
this  was  more  immediately  in  the  form  of  a  sermon.  I  felt 
great  liberty,  and  I  hope  good  was  done."     After  a  few  days 


62  REV.    JOHN    SUMMEltFlELlJ. 

he  repealed  the  experiment  at  the  same  chapel,  preaching 
from  Rev.  2:1-7.  *  *  * 

Having  found  access  to  the  pulpit  and  acceptance  among 
the  preachers,  he  resolved  to  devote  himself  with  double  dili- 
gence to  secure  the  richer  and  more  abundant  outpourings 
of  the  Spirit  of  God  upon  his  own  soul.  For  instance  : 
"  May  6th,  rose  at  five,  and  retired  into  the  garden  for  med- 
itation and  prayer,  which  occupied  me  an  hour.  I  find  I 
should  grow  in  grace  more,  if  I  prayed  in  inivate  more  ;  all 
the  imhlic  means  of  grace  will  not  compensate  me  in  this 
respect.  By  the  grace  of  God,  and  relying  on  his  divine 
aid,  I  purpose  beginning  from  this  day  to  pray  in  private 
jive  times  every  day."  However  improbable  it  might  be  that 
he  should  long  keep  such  a  resolution,  or  however  question- 
able the  propriety  of  taking  it  upon  him  at  all,  it  appears 
from  subsequent  allusions  that  it  was  observed  by  him  at 
least  for  some  time,  with  religious  scrupulosity  and  corre- 
sponding advantage.  Every  thing  done  faithfully  to  the 
Lord  has  its  peculiar  reward. 

They  who  have  most  largely  experienced  the  influences 
of  the  grace  of  God,  and  consequently  discovered  most  deeply 
the  innate  corruption  of  their  own  hearts,  are  alone  able  to 
understand  what  is  meant  by  those  temptations  from  the 
world,  the  ilesh,  and  the  devil,  to  which  a  spirit  seeking  to 
increase  in  holiness  is  peculiarly  exposed.  To  such  only 
will  the  following  sentence  be  at  all  intelligible,  occurring 
as  it  does  amid  notices  of  prayer  almost  literally  "  without 
ceasing,"  and  the  most  unremitting  exertions  for  the  salva- 
tion of  souls  :  "Unceasing  meditation  oii  the  word  of  God, 
private  prayer,  and  self-examination  in  the  presence  of  God. 
0  my  sins  of  oinis,uon,  omissio7i,  omission. 

"  'Lord,  grant  me  mercy  for  the  past. 
And  grace  for  time  to  come.'  " 

Such  was  the  daily  practice,  such  the  ingenuous  confession 
of  the  conscientious  John  Summerfield,  when  a  Christian  of 


HE   ENTERS   THE    MINISTRY.  63 

little  more  than  twelve  months'  standing-.  "  Who  then  is 
that  faithful  and  wise  servant,  whom  his  Lord  when  he 
Cometh  shall  find  so  doing,"  that  he  shall  not  have  occasion, 
not  only  to  say,  "  I  am  an  miprofitable  servant,  I  have  done 
only  that  which  it  was  my  duty  to  do,"  but  rather  to  cry, 
"  Omission,  omission,  omission." 

Sunday  morning,  June  14,  half-past  eight,  "  Came  home 
from  preaching ;  my  mind  was  in  an  unusually  happy 
frame  this  morning;  I  could  weep  all  the  day  long;  I  fear 
some  temptation  is  at  hand — I  could  scarcely  restrain  my 
feelings  under  family  prayer.  I  retired  immediately  to  the 
garden,  and  such  a  sweet  powerful  time  of  prayer  I  don't 
remember."  This  is  a  very  touching  scene  of  personal  expe- 
rience ;  but  still,  amid  this  rush  of  happy  feeling  a  still  small 
voice  whispered,  "  Rejoice  with  treinbling :"  he  was  so  happy 
that  he  feared  some  temptation  was  near.  These  are  deli- 
cate but  perilous  feelings  ;  and  we  shall  often  be  discouraged 
if  we  measure  our  love  and  faith  by  the  sensible  measure  of 
peace  that  passeth  understanding,  and  joy  unspeakable  and 
full  of  glory,  which  are  permitted  only  as  occasional  ante- 
pasts  of  heaven,  while  we  are  travelling  through  thorns  and 
briars  in  a  world  yet  under  the  primal  curse — though,  wher- 
ever that  curse  has  reached,  blessed  by  the  footsteps  of  the 
second  Man,  the  Lord  from  heaven,  who  is  with  his  servants 
always  and  everywhere,  even  to  the  end  of  the  world,  when 
they  preach  the  gospel.  ^  *  * 

Among  other  pious  engagements  which  about  this  period 
occupied  the  attention  of  Mr.  Snmmcrfield,  was  that  of 
taking  appointments  ou  behalf' of  the  "  Strangers'  Friend 
Society."  *  *  *  The  field  of  labor  opened  by  this  society 
attracted  him  soon  after  his  conversion  :  "  I,  who  am  myself 
only  a  stranger  in  Dublin,'"  said  he,  "  am  anxious  to  become 
a  strangers'  friend." 

It  may  here  without  impropriety  be  noted,  that  "social 
meetings"  for  religious  conversation,  at   which  the  mem- 


64  RE  V.   JOHN    SUMMEItFIELD. 

bers  of  the  various  societies  in  Dublin  took  breakfast  or  tea 
together,  are  still  kept  up  ;  and  iu  them  is  maintained  a 
general  and  profitable  religious  conversation,  which  is  mado 
a  peculiar  blessing  to  the  persons  present.  These  interviews 
were  very  interesting  to  Summerfield,  and  frequent  allusions 
to  them  occur  in  the  diary.  The  following  exhibits  a  deli- 
cate trait :  "  Attended  our  social  meeting.  Arranged  for  the 
ensuing  breakfast ;  it  is  my  turn  to  invite.  I  will  therefore 
invite  my  father,  as  we  expect  William  Bunting,  Mr.  Gaul- 
ter,  etc.,  to  it,  and  I  knoAV  I  could  not  give  him  a  higher 
gratification." 

On  the  23d  of  June,  he  made  the  annexed  memoran- 
dum, which  appears  too  interesting  to  be  omitted:  "Mrs. 

C has  desired   my  father  to  let  me  spend  the  entire 

of  this  day  with  her  dying  son.  May  I  go  filled  with  the 
spirit  of  prayer.  I  went.  I  stayed  there  to  breakfiist,  and 
remained  till  two  o'clock.  He  is  very  happy  ;  I  read  Bax- 
ter's Dying  Thoughts  fn"  him.  and  commented  thereon  :  I 
prayed  with  the  family  ;  my  own  soul  was  watered  also." 

After  dinner,  he  adds,  "Mrs.  C has  desired  me  to  spend 

the  whole  night  with  William.  I  am  very  unwell  myself; 
yet  if  it  be  the  will  of  my  Master,  I  will  go,  notwithstanding 
this."  He  went  accordingly,  but  found  his  friend  "no  more 
a  mem ;  he  was  now  become  an  angel.  I  remained  with 
the  beautiful  clay  all  night.  0  that  I  was  landed  as  safely 
beyond  the  stream."  How  short  a  time  sufficed  to  realize 
this  ardent  aspiration. 

The  precision  with  which  he  notes  the  various  emotions 
connected  with  the  composition  and  delivery  of  his  pulpit 
discourses,  and  his  record  of  the  slightest  intimations  of  ap- 
probation or  otherwise,  expressed  by  the  preachers,  both 
tend  to  illustrate  the  undoubted  fact  that  he  very  carefully 
w^atched  every  movement  of  the  finger  of  God  in  this  ino- 
rnentous  ailair.  Indeed  it  is  evident,  from  several  incidental 
expressions,  that  his  mind  was  laboring  from  day  to  day  in 


HE    ENTERS   THE    MINISTRY.  65 

anxious  suspense,  as  ii"  he  waited  for  some  provideutial 
change,  some  call  from  God,  which  should  decide  the  future 
course  and  complexion  of  his  hfe.  He  seems  less  to  have 
aimed  at  a  distinct  object,  consciously  at  least,  than  to  have 
expected  some  such  manifestation  as  should  decide /or  him: 
it  is  indeed  abundantly  evident,  that  with  heart,  soul,  mind, 
and  strength,  he  had  been  preparing  for  the  ministry,  and 
longing  to  be  clearly  and  effectually  brought  into  it,  not  of 
his  own  will  only,  but  by  the  will  of  God  :  indeed,  the  former 
appears  to  have  been  so  resolutely  submitted  to  the  latter, 
so  conscientiously  sacrificed  to  it,  that  he  was  hardly  aware 
of  its  survival  in  himself 

This  entire  resignation  accounts  too  for  that  absence  of 
anxiety,  so  nearly  resembling  indifference  with  w^liich  he  re- 
garded any  prospect  of  a  permanent  situation  :  for  instance, 
after  naming  an  individual,  he  says,  "lie  proposed  for  my 

acceptance  the  probability  of  a  situation  in of  sixty 

or  seventy  pounds  per  annum.  Judging  that  this  might  be 
of  God,  I  told  him  that  if  it  offered,  I  would  not  refuse  it. 
If  it  be  thy  will,  my  Lord,  open  thou  the  way."  The  way 
however  remained  closed ;  God  had  other  work  for  him  to 
do.  =5^  *  * 

After  mentioning  with  great  humility  the  fact  that  at 
one  place  in  the  country  there  had  been  but  five  hearers  on 
the  preceding  Sabbath,  but  that  he  had  a  congregation  of 
twenty;  and  moreover,  that  one  of  the  friends  complained, 
that,  as  some  of  the  young  men  who  had  been  sent  out 
there  were  not  such  as  they  liked,  they  would  only  receive 
three,  he  adds,  "  Lord,  make  me  more  humble.  1  was  one 
of  the  three.  Thou,  Oh  my  God,  shalt  have  the  honor.  I 
will  put  the  crown  on  no  head  but  thine.  Have  I  a  gift  ? 
Thou  bestowedst  it.  Oh,  grant  me  more  grace."  After 
preaching  in  the  evening  of  the  same  day,' July  19,  he  thus 
writes  in  the  diary:  "It  was  a  season  of  blessing  here  also. 
Go  where  I  will,  if  in  the  true  spirit  of  sincerity,  I  meet  my 


66  REV.   JOUW    SUMMEIIFIELD. 

Master.  God  wonderfully  subdued  the  thoru  iii  my  flesh; 
I  never  spoke  with  such  fluency  and  ease  to  myself.  Bless 
and  magnify  thy  God,  Oh  my  soul.  I  am  now  fasting  thir- 
teen hours  ;  I  have  walked  many  miles,  and  twice  preached 
till  I  am  quite  hoarse  ;  yet  I  am  neither  weak  nor  weary  ;  I 
could  go  again,  if  called  to  it,  to  hold  a  third  meeting.  He 
wonderfully  supports  my  body  ou  these  occasions  ;  though  I 
want  bodily  food,  yet  having  fed  my  soul,  I  feel  no  lack." 

It  is  not  quite  clear  from  these  words,  whether  the  pro- 
tracted abstinence  to  which  they  refer  was  casual  or  vohui- 
tary  ;  but  from  Mr.  Summcrficld's  practice,  the  latter  is 
rather  to  be  apprehended.  *  *  * 

Mr.  Surainerfield  is  now  to  be  viewed  as  laboring  in  a 
new  section  of  that  extensive  field  of  usefulness  providen- 
tially opened  for'  him  in  Ireland.  His  father  had  been  for 
some  time  engaged  in  the  management  of  a  general  machine 
manufactory  in  Cork ;  to  this  city,  at  the  call  of  his"  father, 
this  youthful,  lovely,  and  zealous  apostle  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
instantly  repaired.  lie  left  Dublin  for  Cork  on  the  23d  of 
July,  1818,  and  arrived  at  the  latter  place  on  the  following 
evening,  and  contrary  to  his  expectations,  was  no  worse  in 
body  next  morning,  although  he  bad  ridden  on  the  outside 
of  the  coach,  and  been  thoroughly  drenched  with  rain.  *  *  * 

The  next  day  being  the  Sabbath,  he  piously  and  appro- 
priately remarks,  "This  morning  I  had  that  leisure  which 
I  could  not  before  meet  with  since  I  came  to  Cork.  I  bought 
up  the  moments,  and  earnestly  dedicated  myself  to  God  in 
this  novel  country  ;  t  besought  his  grace  to  enable  me  to 
walk  circumspectly  before  all,  and  preserve  a  conscience 
void  of  offence.  I  scarcely  recollect  so  great  a  sense  of  the 
divine  presence.  May  I  watch  the  finger  of  Providence  in 
this  my  call  to  this  part  of  the  country,  and  trace  his  hand 
in  all  the  events  of  my  life." 

The  divine  hand — for  it  was  manifestly  no  other — soon 
pointed  out  a  way  of  employment  very  different  from  that 


HE    ENXEILS    THE    M1N1STR\^  07 

which  was  the  more  immediate  ohject  of  his  visit  to  Cork  ; 
for  although  he  entered  promptly  upon  business,  and  sundry 
entries  occur  of  his  diligence  therein,  yet  his  talents  and 
piety  being  discovered  and  appreciated,  he  was  presently 
almost  exclusively  engaged  in  preaching  for  one  or  other  of 
the  Methodist  ministers,  who  really  appear  to  have  had  too 
little  consideration  about  his  delicate  frame,  upon  which  he 
had  no  mercy  himself;  while  the  people  exercised  still  less 
ibrbearance  in  the  mode  and  measure  of  their  approbation 
of  his  pulpit  labors.  These  things  find  their  solution,  per- 
haps their  apology,  in  the  fact,  that  the  uncommon  fervor 
of  his  discourses  was  generally  accompanied  by  abundant 
inanifestations  of  the  divine  presence. 

'  The  Ibllowing  iiaivc  entry  occurs  under  Sunday,  Aug.  2  : 
"  This  promises  to  be  a  high  day  with  me  ;  I  found  Jesus 
truly  precious  iu  my  morning  prayer.  Ten  o'clock,  went  to 
Patrick-street ;  heard  Mr.  Waugh  on  peace  in  all  things,  by 
all  means,  etc.  And  now  how  can  I  describe  my  feelings 
when,  after  morning  worship,  Mr.  Stewart  rises  up  and  pub- 
lishes these  words:  'Brother  Summerfield  from  Dublin,  a 
member  of  the  Strangers'  Friend  Society  there,  will  preach 
at  five  o'clock  this  evening  at  Douglas  :  Brother  Summer- 
field  from  Dublin'  he  repeated.  I  knew  not  whether  I 
■  was  sitting  or  standing,  I  was  thrown  into  such  a  state  of 
perturbation.  He  mistook  me  ;  I  am  no  member  of  that 
society  ;"  [not  perhaps  in  the  strict  sense,  but  he  had  often 
preached  for  them  ;]  "  and  to  invite  immortal  souls  to  come 
to  hear  77ie .'  and  this  my  first  regular  sermon,  exceeded  the 
powers  of  my  mind  to  bear  under.  I  hurried  home,  and 
found  the  way  to  my  closet,  and  found  my  God  there.  Glory 
to  him."  At  five  o'clock  he  repaired  to  the  preaching-house, 
which  was  crowded  to  excess.  After  casting  himself  by 
private  prayer  into  the  arms  of  his  blessed  Master,  he  gave 
out  a  favorite  hymn,  "  Oh,  what  shall  I  do  my  Saviour  to 
praise,"  and  then  preached  three  quarters  of  an  hour  fi-om 


68  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERl'IELD. 

Romans  8:32.  He  felt  frreat  liberty  in  the  "pulpit,  and 
pi-obably  regarded  the  whole  service  as  a  happy  presage  of 
his  future  destiny,  for  he  thus  writes  concerning  it:  "Thus 
have  I  commenced  on  this,  to  me,  memorable  day.  And 
now,  '  I  '11  praise  my  Maker  while  I  've  breath  ;'  ray  heart 
warms  in  the  work,  and  1  am  determined  to  lay  myself  out 
for  God." 

How  emphatically  he  acted  upon  this  determination,  the 
subjoined  entry  relative  to  his  engagement  on  the  following 
Wednesday  will  partially  show  :  "  Seven  o'clock,  I  set  ofi' 
to  Blackpool ;  the  place  was  again  crowded  to  excess.  Oh, 
my  God,  did  I  ^peak,  and  did  they  hear  for  eternity  ?  I 
was  as  wet  with  the  heat  as  if  I  had  been  dragged  through 
water.  I  over-exerted  myself;  preached  near  an  hour, 
besides  the  singing  and  prayer  ;  but  who  could  forbear  ?  If 
1  injure  my  body,  1  cannot  restrain.  1  hurried  home,  muliled 
up  as  well  as  I  could,  and  got  to  bed."  Well  might  his 
record  next  morning  be,  "I  find  myself  very  unwell  from 
last  night,  and  therefore  obtained  a  respite  from  further 
labor  the  remainder  of  this  week  ;  which  time  I  employed, 
as  good  George  Howe  says,  in  mending  my  net,  nay,  more, 
in  employing  the  aid  of  Him  who  can  direct  me  how  to  let 
it  down  on  the  right  side  of  the  ship."  A  day  or  two  after- 
w^ards,  when  called  upon  to  pray  at  the  public  ba7i(h,  a 
kind  brother  whispered  in  his  ear,  "Take  care  lest  the  sword 
cut  the  scabbard."  This  metaphor,  which  is  proverbial,  is 
yet  hardly  a  correct  one.  Of  what  us.e  is  the  sword  in  the 
scabbard  ?  by  rusting  there,  it  may  consume  it ;  but  the 
body  is  something  more  to  the  soul  than  the  scabbard  to  the 
sword.  The  metaphor,  however,  though  it  will  not  exactly 
"go  on  all  fours,"  is  sufficiently  expressive  of  the  danger  to 
be  apprehended  to  the  delicate  form  of  our  young  preacher, 
when  his  "soul  was  sharpened,"  to  use  his  own  words,  by 
a  sense  of  the  presence  of  his  Master. 

It  was  ever  Mr.  Summerfield's  solicitude  to  avoid  not 


HE    ENTERS   THE    MINISTRY.  69 

only  the  evil  communications  of  those  who  were  evidently 
the  corrupters  of  good  manners,  but  likewise  all  utmecessary 
conversation  with  the  professors  of  religion  at  times  or  on 
topics  not  convenient.  The  following  item  is  quoted  for  the 
purpose  of  accompanying  it  with  a  remark  which,  although 
it  may  be  disregarded,  need  not  be  taken  amiss:  "After 
preaching  was  over  I  hurried  home  to  my  closet,  lest  I 
should  lose  the  blessing  by  conversing  with  any  one."  Would 
that  Christians  in  general  had  in  them  a  disposition  to  "do 
likewise."  How  frequently  are  the  good  desires  and  holy 
feelings  derived  during  divine  service,  dissipated  by  that 
frivolous  conversation,  or  at  best,  that  semircligious  twad- 
dle, which  is  so  often  heard  on  the  breaking  up  of  our  con- 
gregations.  *  *  * 


70  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

CHAPTER   VII. 

SUMMERFIELD  BECOMES  A  POPULAR  PREACHER— PREACHES  AL- 
MOST INCESSANTLY— MINISTERIAL  ANXIETIES— TRAVELS  AND 
ADDRESSES  LARGE  AUDITORIES  IN  IRELAND  WITH  GREAT  SUC- 
CESS. 

*  *  *  ^Ir.  Sumjierfield's  popularity  at  this  time  fre- 
quently brought  him  into  very  trying  circumstances.  In  con- 
sequence of  some  slanderous  remarks  which  had  been  made 
concerning  him,  he  resolved  to  lay  aside  his  public  labors  in 
Cork  for  the  present,  and  even  to  give  up  an  engagement  to 
preach  which  he  had  made  there ;  this  was  August  28.  Next 
morning,  while  travelling  on  tlie  steam-boat  to  Cove,  he  ob- 
serves, "My  mind  was  much  led  out  into  the  case  of  Jonah  : 
like  him,  I  was  fleeing  from  the  Lord's  work,  in  which  I  should 
have  been'  engaged  to-morrow,  being  appointed  for  Douglas. 
I  prayed  that  my  God  would  pardon  this  my  sin.  I  would 
gladly  have  returned  to  Cork,  if  I  could  have  done  so  ;  how- 
ever, I  vowed  to  him  that  1  would  not  again  shrink  from  the 
cross,  and  anew  committed  my  soul  and  body  into  his  hands." 

A  few  days  afterwards  he  was  distressed  by  the  injudi- 
cious affection  of  several  of  his  friends,  who,  when  he  had 
done  preaching  at  Passage,  "dragged  him  in  diflerent  direc- 
tions," and  as  he  could  not  go  with  all,  some  were  offended; 
but,  as  he  justly  exclaimed,  "  WhaJ.  could  I  do?  If  I  could 
leave  an  arm  here,  and  a  leg  there,  I  would.  My  God,  keep 
me  very,  very,  very  humble.  I  told  them  that  I  feared  they 
would  ruin  me  by  making  me  think  of  myself  above  meas- 
ure, and  begged,  if  they  loved  me,  they  would  desist."  Let 
the  friends  of  popular  young  ministers  affectionately  consider 
this.  If  it  might  not  with  truth  be  affirmed  that  Summer- 
field  was  absolutely  insensible  to  svich  adulation,  if  cannot 
be  denied  that  he  was  as  little  improperly  affected  by  it  as 
perhaps  any  human  being  in  his  circumstances  could  be. 

His  dislike  of  participating  in  any  engagements  which 


MINISTERIAL    LABORS.  71 

were  not  exclusively  spiritual  iu  their  object  or  tendency, 
has  been  repeatedly  noticed.  Ou  the  first  of  September, 
after  mentioning  the  kind  entertainment  which  he  met  with 
in  a  respectable  family,  he  adds,  "After  breakfast,  spent  a 
good  part  of  the  forenoon  in  singing  and  playing  sacred 
music.  But  0,  how  unlike  the  song  of  Moses  and  the 
Lamb."  In  the  afternoon  he  was  induced,  much  against 
his  inclination,  to  join  a  boating  party,  which  had  nearly 
been  connected  with  fatal  consequences.  I  use  his  own 
words :  "  I  am  not  fond  of  this  kind  of  amusement ;  but  I 
could  not  refuse.  We  were  sixteen  in  number ;  and  were 
most  providentially  preserved  from  a  watery  grave ;  being 
thrown  into  the  most  imminent  danger,  and  glad  to  get  to 
the  shore,  struggling,  through  the  water  on  a  bank  of  mud 
and  quicksand,  which  nearly  destroyed  us. 

'"0,  how  shall  I  with  equal  wannth 
The  gratitude  declare, 
That  glows  within  my  ravished  heart?' " 

*  *  *  He  was  now  engaged  almost  incessantly,  at  one 
place  or  another,  preacliing  the  word  with  increasing  accept- 
ance ;  but  the  struggles  of  his  mind  respecting  the  probability 
of  his  receiving  a  call  to  the  work  of  the  ministry  iu  the 
regular  manner,  and  his  providential  situation  at  this  time, 
were  strong  and  frequent.  He  was,  indeed,  placed  in  a  most 
delicate  and  dilFicult  predicament :  conscious  that  while  he 
pursued  his  present  course  he  Mas  neglecting  in  some  degree 
the  business  upon  which  he  came,  and  at  the  same  time 
anxiously  looking  for  some  opening  whereby  God  would 
bring  him  more  fully  into  the  ministry — that  blessed  work 
for  which  his  ardent  soul  panted  to  be  entirely  given  up. 
"0,  my  God,"  says  he,  "willing  as  I  am  to  be  spent  iu  thy 
service,  thou  knowest  I  often  cry  out,  '  Send  by  whom  thou 
wilt  send,  but  not  by  me;'  and  yet  thou  hast  replied,  'My 
grace  is  sufficient  for  thee.'  ". 

He  had  a  irreat  mi  willingness  that  hi.>  flxthor  sliould  hear 


72  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

him  preach,  and  had  given  up  one  appointment  on  that 
account.  On  the  loth  of  Septeuiber,  he  preached  in  Black- 
pool chapel,  iroia  Rom.  8  :32.  Messrs.  Waugh  and  Stewart 
sat  with  him  in  the  pulpit.  But,  on  this  occasion,  he  re- 
marks, "I  never  was  so  embarrassed  as  1  found  myself — I 
never  disliked  my  own  discourse  more.  I  hid  my  face  after- 
wards, and  almost  vowed  1  would  never  .again  stand  up  to 
preach."  0  the  infirmity  of  man  :  unwilling  to  be  hum- 
bled ;  dissatisfied  if  he  cannot  please  himself  in  serving 
God.  The  congregation  was  large  ;  and,  added  to  the  per- 
turbed state  of  his  feelings  on  this  account,  what  was  his 
surprise  to  learn,  on  his  arrival  at  home,  that  his  father  had 
been  one  of  his  hearers.  This  discovery,  and  the  recollec- 
tion of  his  defects,  abashed  him  a  good  deal.  His  father, 
how^ever,  assured  him  that  he  had  been  profited  ;  and  a 
pious  man,  to  whom  he  mentioned  his  temptation  to  desist 
from  preaching,  warned  him  in  God's  name  not  to  do  it. 
Next  morning  he  went  to  preach  in  Patrick-street  chapel. 
Here  he  exemplified  the  danger  of  relying  too  much  upon 
present  "frames  and  feelings,"  without  taking  into  the 
account  other  evidences  of  the  divine  favor.  The  follow- 
ing and  several  similar  statements  prove,  in  Mr.  Summer- 
field's  case,  as  in  many  others  that  might  be  mentioned, 
how  emphatically  it  may  be  asserted,  that  he  who  has 
"  abundance  of  revelations,"  needs  no  other  —  needs  no 
sharper  thorn  in  the  flesh,  no  messenger  of  Satan  more 
tormenting  and  harassing  than  this — the  perpetual  bufiet- 
ing  of  the  temptation  to  seek  his  own  glory,  while  he  is  pro- 
moting God's.  But  to  quote  ihe  entry  referred  to  :  "If  ever 
the  enemy  was  permitted  to  buflet  me,  surely  this  was  the 
■  tjme.  I  had  my  thoughts  taken  from  me,  and  in  this  state 
I  began  to  roam,  I  know  not  wdiere.  I  would  have  given 
the  world  to  iiave  been  out  of  the  house  ;  and  after  I  had 
concluded,  I  remained  till  all  the  people  had  retired,  that  1 
mi<jht   escape   home   unperceived.     My   God,   is   this   from 


MINISTE RIAL  LABORS.  73 

thee  ?  0,  my  Father,  send  hy  whom  lliou  wilt  send,  but 
not  by  me ;  I  cannot,  I  cannot  preach.  Perhaps  God  has 
■withdrawn  his  hght  Irom  me ;  I  know  I  might  have  been 
more  faithful ;  but  0,  my  God,  yet  bear  with  me.  I  did 
dedicate  myself  to  thee ;  but  if  thou  hast  naught  for  me  to 
do,  remove  me  out  of  this  world  altogether  I  only  wish  to 
live  to  promote  thy  cause."  Surely  these  agonies  of  anxiety 
ought  to  have  been  somewhat  allayed  by  the  consideration 
that  his  preaching  was  accompanied,  not  only  by  the  power 
of  God,  but  by  the  applause  of  men,  and  abundantly  re- 
warded by  the  afiection  of  the  people  of  God — indeed  suffi- 
ciently so  to  tempt  the  vanity  and  ambition  which  is  in 
every  human  heart.  That  Summerfield  had  a  sincere  de- 
sire to  do  the  work  of  an  evangelist  in  simplicity,  was 
abundantly  evident  to  others ;  but  he  did  not  know  himself 
fully  at  this  time.  "Who  can  understand  his  errors? 
Cleanse  thou  me  from  secret  faults."  Psalm  19:12.  It 
may  be  proper  to  add  an  item  relative  to  his  very  next  ser- 
mon :  "I  preached  to  a  large  congregation  on  these  words  : 
'Come  now,  and  let  us  reason  together.'  Isaiah  1:18. 
God  wonderfully  assisted  me ;  he  again  returned  to  my 
help,  and  it  was  a  season  of  blessing  to  all  our  souls. 
Glory  to  God." 

Every  incident  that  reminded  him  of  the  venerable 
founder  of  Methodism,  seems  to  have  excited  in  his  mind 
strong  desires  to  emulate  the  labors  of  that  illustrious  man. 
In  a  collection  of  wax  figures  which  he  was  taken  to  see  at 
Cork,  nothing  interested  him  so  much  as  "that  man  of  God, 
John  Wesley."  Again,  in  tlic  subjoined  graphic  sketch : 
"I  could  not  help  thinking  how  like  a  travelling  preacher  1 
was  just  then  :  a  boy  Avhom  I  had  hired  walked  before  mo 
with  my  travelling-bag,  hkc  a  preacher's  portmanteau,  and 
I  was  hurrying  after  to  meet  immortal  souls  who  were 
waiting  for  me.  John  Wesley  rushed  on  my  mind.  Oh, 
that  I  had  his  spirit,  his  zeal,  his  piety  ;  then  imlecd  I  should 

Summerfield.  *t 


71  REV.    JOHN   SlIMMERFJE  LD. 

be  a  burning  and  a  shining  light  in  the  world."  Again : 
"I  have  now  preached  six  times  this  week ;  and  j-et  what 
is  this  to  the  zeal  of  a  Wesley  or  a  Coke?"  Surely,  when 
we  regard  the  "more  abundant"  labors  of  this  devoted 
man,  there  was  much  propriety  in  the  designation,  "Young 
Wesley,"  which  was  frequently  applied  to  him  at  this  and 
an  after-period  of  his  career. 

In  connection  with  a  previous  remark  relative  to  his 
diffidence  in  the  presence  of  his  father,  himself  an  occasional 
preacher,  I  cannot  forbear  transcribing  the  following  pas- 
sage :  "For  the  llrst  time  I  took  up  a  cross  which  I  had  not 
before  borne,  namely,  preaching  where  my  father  was,  to 
my  knowledge,  a  hearer ;  he  walked  with  me  to  the  chapel, 
and  I  could  not  refuse  his  request.  He  sat  just  under  the 
pulpit,  and  I  obsen'cd  that  he  wept  all  the  time."  Some 
sons  make  their  fathers  weep  bitterly,  but  these  were  tears 
of  joy  and  love. 

So  interestmg  was  the  appearance  aird  so  fascinating  the 
eloquence  of  this  young  evangelist,  that  many  persons  who 
had  never  heard  a  Methodist  preacher,  and  probably  would 
not  have  been  prevailed  upon  to  hear  any  other,  attended 
the  preaching  of  Mr.  Summerfield  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Cork.  Whether,  however,  these  Mere  churchmen  or  Cath- 
olics— persons  bigoted  against  Methodism,  or  mere  men  of 
the  world — all  were  delighted  and  edified  by  the  fervor  and 
simplicity  of  his  sermons.  While  he  labored  to  acquit  his 
conscience  in  speaking  faithfully  to  all  who  heard  him,  wilh 
the  meekness  of  wisdom  he  sought  to  turn  to  profitable 
account  even  the  slanders  of  foolish  or  wicked  men  :  "May 
I  never,"  says  he  on  one  occasion,  "forget  the  caution  which 
a  false  accusation  has  given  me.  0,  how  happy  we  should 
be  when  we  hear  our  faults  from  our  enemies ;  our  friends 
seldom  tell  them  to  us — too  seldom." 

Under  the  date  of  September  28,  there  is  an  entry  which 
seems  to  point  to  the  anniversary  of  his  spiritual  liirthday  : 


MINISTERIAL   LABORS.  75 

"  I  recollect  it  was  this  night  twelve  months,  that  I  joined 
the  Methodist  society  ;  and  so  God  has  kept  me  one  year. 
0  how  unfaithful  I  have  been.  My  God,  forgive,  forgive  the 
past.  0  may  I  be  more  faithful  in  time  to  come.  One  year — 
0,  eternity !  This  evening  I  renewed  my  covenant  with 
God;  may  he  who  could  keep  me  one  year,  keep  me  for 
ever.''  One  year  only  since  he  became  a  member  of  the 
Methodist  society,  yet  such  a  preacher  that  he  even  dreams — 
as  he  did  a  few  nights  previous  to  this — that  he  is  before  the 
lord-lieutenant  and  his  lady,  in  a  palace  or  a  cathedral.  But 
0,  how  truly  and  sincerely  self-humbling  are  his  acknow- 
ledgments this  day.  He  is  now  alone  with  his  God,  and  the 
tempter  does  not  dare  to  disturb  him  on  this  occasion.  On 
the  folloAving  morning  he  took  his  leave  of  the  congregation 
in  Patrick-street,  from  these  words  :  "  Keep  yourselves  in  the 
love  of  God,  looking  for  the  mercy  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
unto  eternal  life."  Jude  21.  He  then  wrote  in  his  diary, 
"  This  day  is  the  beginning  of  a  new  year  with  me ;  the 
morning  of  this  new  year  I  have  been  found  in  the  service 
of  my  Master.  0,  my  God,  where  shall  I  be  in  the  morning 
of  my  next  year  ?  But  above  all,  where  shall  I  be  in  the 
morning  of  the  resurrection  ?" 

Towards  the  beginning  of  October,  he  visited  Fermoy, 
and  preached  in  the  court-house  to  the  largest  congregations 
ever  seen  in  that  place.  On  his  arrival,  he  represents  his 
soul  as  having  been  in  the  happiest  frame  he  almost  ever 
remembered  ;  indeed,  great  grace  seems  to  have  rested  upon 
him  day  by  day ;  and  yet  such  were  the  humbling  views 
which  he  had  of  his  own  weakness  and  darkness,  that  in  the 
midst  of  blessings  from  above,  he  writes,  "  Read  Mr.  Wesley's 
sermon,  'The  Almost  Christian  ;'  my  own  experience." 

Clonmel  and  Watcrford  were  next  visited  by  him ;  and 
during  the  week  which  brought  him  to  the  latter  place,  he 
had  travelled  on  horseback  seventy  miles  and  preached  seven 
times.     He  was  really  itinerating  now.  *  *  * 


76  REV.    JOHN   SUMME.RF1ELD. 

He  was  received  at  Waterford  by  the  Rev.  W.  Stewart, 
the  highly  esteemed  superintendent  preacher  of  that  place. 
To  this"  man  of  God,  in  whom  Summerfield  found  a  true 
friend,  he  soon  became  ardently  attached,  and  numberless 
arc  the  expressions  of  regard  and  endearment  which  in  con- 
nection with  his  name  occur  in  the  diary.  This  affection,  so 
characteristic  of  Summerfield's  attachments,  was  recipro- 
cated by  his  friend ;  and  I  am  happy  that  a  communication 
from  Mr.  Stewart,  while  it  affords  me  an  opportunity  of  ex- 
pressing personal  obligation  and  respect,  furnishes  at  the 
same  time  the  following  interesting  notice  of  Summerfield's 
introduction  at  Waterford.  "  lie  came  from  Cork  recom- 
mended to  me,"  says  Mr.  Stewart,  "  as  a  local  preacher,  by 
the  late  Rev.  W.  Copeland,  who  was  then  stationed  at  Cove; 
and  who  remarked  in  reference  to  brother  Summerfield's 
talents  for  the  ministry,  that  if  he  were  not  a  star  of  the  first 
magniiude,  he  at  least  promised  to  be  one  of  the  first  bril- 
liancy.  Wc  were  much  delighted  with  him  in  Waterford. 
He  preached  for  us  several  times ;  and  his  sermons  discov- 
ered a  depth  and  extent  of  scripture  knowledge  and  Chris- 
tian experience  much  beyond  his  yeai's.  This,  together 
with  his  manner,  style  of  delivery,  and  very  youthful  appear- 
ance, attracted  great  congregations,  who  all  seemed  edified 
and  impressed ;  and  retired,  wondering  at  the  grace  of  God 
manifested  in  his  person,  his  preaching,  and  his  prayers ; 
and  readily  reechoing  the  common  sentiment  respecting  him, 
'He  is  a  2>rodigy.'  " 

Besides  the  crowds  of  ordinary  hearers  attracted  by  his 
popularity,  many  persons  of  rank  and  influence  Avent  to  hear 
him ;  and  in  one  instance  the  E.ev.  Mr.  Fleury,  son  of  the 
archdeacon  of  Waterford,  sat  with  him  in  the  pulpit,  a  mark 
of  respect  not  often  shown  to  the  Methodist  preachers ;  but, 
above  all,  God  was  eminently  present  in  the  congregations. 

It  must  be  regarded  as  a  felicitous  circumstance  for  Mr. 
Summerfield  at  this  time,  that  while  he  was  in  the  habit  of 


MINISTERIAL   LABORS.  77 

receiving  numerous  letters  of  invitation,  and  indeed  of  com- 
mendation, from  ministers  of  the  gospel,  his  correspondents 
were  men  of  experience  in  the  ways  of  religion,  able  and 
willing  to  give  him  the  best  advice  with  reference  to  his 
spiritual  prosperity.  Letters  lying  before  me,  written  by  the 
Rev.  Messrs.  Hamilton,  Cooper,  Robinson,  Matthews,  Cobain, 
Stewart,  etc.,  all  breathe  the  same  spirit.  Brief  extracts 
from  the  two  last  will  exhibit  the  bearing  of  the  whole.  Rev. 
E.  Cobain  says,  "  0  what  shall  I  say  to  one  I  love  so  dearly? 
Lie  at  the  foot  of  the  cross;  keep  close  to  the  Bible;  sit 
loose  to  the  p-aise  of  men.  If  any  good  be  done,  sink  in 
the  dust  before  God  and  give  him  all  the  glory."  Rev.  W. 
Stewart :  "  If  I  had  only  one  advice  to  give  you  on  the  sub- 
ject of  preaching,  it  would  be — preach  Christ  and  him  cruci- 
fied, and  a  free,  full,  and  present  salvation,  through  faith  in 
his  blood  ;  whether  you  preach  to  children  or  grown  persons, 
to  the  rich  or  to  the  poor,  to  saints  or  to  sinners,  to  the 
crowded  auditory  or  the  humble  few,  let  this  be  your  theme, 
Jesus  and  his  salvation,  salvation  from  sin,"  etc.,  etc. 

On  Sunday,  the  8th  of  November,  he  preached  at  Cove 
his  frst  missio7iary  sennoji.  He  undertook  the  duty  with 
fear  and  trembling,  but  God  aided  him,  and  the  collection 
was  larger  than  on  any  previous  occasion.  On  the  following 
Sunday  he  preached  for  the  same  purpose  at  Waterfurd,  and 
notwithstanding  that  it  rained  heavily  at  the  time  of  service, 
the  collection  was  double  the  amount  of  the  preceding  year. 

After  preaching  at  Ross  one  evening,  to  a  large  congre- 
gation, he  thus  alludes  to  an  unpleasant  interruption  :  •'  The 
devil  did  not  like  my  sermon ;  he  annoyed  us  by  a  drunken 
man,  who  threatened  to  pull  me  do"wn.  Some  of  the  hearers 
dragged  him  away,  and  Satan  was  disappointed."  A  very 
proper  representative  of  his  satanic  majesty — a  drunken 
man.  *  *  *  Is  there  a  breathing  animal  in  human  shape 
so  great  in  his  own  eyes,  or  so  contemptible  in  the  eyes  of 
others,  as  a  drunkard  in  his  glory  ?     If  he  could  see  himself 


78  REV.   JOHN  SUMMERFIELD. 

with  their  eyes,  he  would  be  fit  to  pluclc  out  his  own,  that 
he  might  never. again  look  them  in  the  face. 

Having  left  Waterford,  he  visited  successively  Carrick, 
Piltown,  Clonmel,  Cashel — where  he  went  to  look  at  "  that 
wonder  of  art,  the  rock  of  Cashel,  where  heathenism,  and 
afterwards  popish  idolatry  held  sway  ;"  the  great  Dr.  Coke 
trod  the  same  ground  before  him,  and  he  felt  peculiar  emo- 
tions on  the  reflection  that  the  doctor's  footsteps  had  been 
where  he  had  the  honor  to  tread — Thurles,  Templemore, 
Eoscrea,  Shinrone,  Birr,  and  Mountrath,  and  arrived  at  his 
father's  house  in  Cork  on  the  2:3d  of  December;  having 
travelled  more  than  three  hundred  miles,  and  preached,  on 
an  average,  seven  times  a  week,  since  he  left  home.  He 
was  most  cordially  received  at  Cork  by  his  "  well  beloved" 
friend  the  Rev.  S.  Wood,  who  three  months  before  had 
wished  him  "God  speed,"  and  parted  from  him  with  a 
"  farewell  kiss "  at  Waterford;  and  who  now  intimated  to 
him  that  he  should  not  let  him  be  idle. 

This  chapter  may  with  much  propriety  be  closed  with 
the  reflection  with  which  Mr.  Summerfield  himself  concluded 
the  year  1818  :  "This  is  the  last  day  of  the  old  year.  0 
what  shall  I  say  to  my  God  for  all  his  goodness  to  me  in  the 
past  year  ?  I  am  at  a  loss  for  expression.  My  heart  is  too 
full.  In  this  07ie  year,  I  have  first  prayed  in  public,  and 
begun  to  preach,  and  preached  in  the  metropolis  of  Ireland, 
in  our  largest  chapel  and  at  the  most  public  time.  0,  my 
God,  may  I  grow  up  into  thee  more  and  more,  in  all  ray 
ways.  May  I  be  spent  for  thee,  who  was  spent  for  me ; 
may  I  glorify  thee  continually.  Attended  the  watch  night. 
I*was  to  have  exhorted,  but  I  did  not  feel  my  mind  free  to  do 
so,  and  hid  myself  in  the  chapel.  Mr.  Doolittle  spoke  suit- 
ably on  watch  nights,  and  mentioned  three  in  the  Bible  : 
the  Egyptian  watch  night,  when  the  Jews  were  delivered  ; 
our  Lord's  watch  night  in  the  garden,  and  Paul  and  Silas' 
watch  night." 


INCREASINa   POPULARITY.  79 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

RETURNS  TO  DUBLIN— POPULARITY  INCREASES— DEDICATES  HIM- 
SELF AFRESH  TO  GOD— VISITS  CORK— HIS  FERVOR— LETTER  TO 
HIS  SISTER— FALLS  FROM  HIS  HORSE- ABUNDANCE  OF  HIS  LA- 
BORS—LETTER TO  REV.  EDWARD  COBAIN— RECEIVES  A  CON- 
FERENCE APPOINTMENT— MISSIONARY  SPEECH. 

The  year  1S19  found  Mr.  Summcrfield  in  Dublin,  the 
friend  and  favorite  of  all  the  influential  Methodists  in  that 
city,  as  well  as  of  many  others — his  popularity  just  setting 
in  with  all  the  fulness  and  freshness  of  its  spring  tide.  Under 
these  circumstances,  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  excitement 
occasioned  by  his  labors  during  the  day  should  afl'ect  his 
imagination  by  night ;  and  accordingly,  as  before  observed, 
he  was  liable  to  dream  about  those  things  which  so  unceas- 
ingly occupied  his  waking  hours.  Notices  to  this  effect  re- 
peatedly occur  among  his  memoranda.  The  following  has 
reference  to  January  7  :  "  I  had  a  dream  to-night,  to  warn 
me  not  to  be  high-minded,  but  fear."  This  dream  may  be 
thought  at  least  a  very  seasonable  one,  when  considered  ia 
connection  with  the  fact  that  three  days  before  he  had 
preached  to  two  thousand  five  hundred  persons,  and  "  felt 
no  fear  of  man."  Great  men  and  good  men  have  experi- 
enced very  opposite  emotions  when  standing  in  the  presence 
of  their  auditors.  Perhaps,  generally  speaking,  the  spec- 
tacle of  an  immense  multitude  to  one  Avho  can  speak  to 
them,  is  only  so  far  overawing  as  to  render  the  sublime 
exhilaration  of  spirit  more  intense  by  that  sweet  and  solemn 
restraint,  under  which  the  mind  rises,  instinctively,  in  pro- 
portion to  the  pressure  upon  it ;  while  the  ellusion  of  itself 
with  all  its  burden  of  thoughts  and  feelings  into  the  bosoms  of 
thousands,  all  eye  and  ear  and  heart,  is  better  ordered  and 
more  eflectual  than  if  it  broke  loose,  and  flooded  tlicm  and 
lost  itf'clf,  for  want  of  regulating  bounds  and  controlling 
influences. 


80  REV.    JOHN    SUMMERFJ  liILJ). 

On  the  9th  of  January  he  agahi  left  Duhhn  to  fulfil  sev- 
eral pulpit  engagements ;  at  the  end  of  the  first  week  he 
found  himself  at  Newagh,  having  travelled  ninety-six  miles 
and  preached  ten  times.  Ninety-six  miles,  and  ten  ser- 
mons, in  seven  days!  He  \vent  with  the  speed  of  a  chariot- 
wheel  down  hill,  till  the  axle  catches  fire ;  and  it  did  catch 
fire,  and  consumed  the  vehicle  at  last.  On  the  20th,  after 
speaking  tltrec  liours,  he  observes,  "I  now  for  the  first  time 
lost  my  voice  ;  the  groans  and  cries  for  mercy  were  beyond 
description  ;  I  could  say  no  more,  so  I  dismissed  them  witii 
a  promise  to  preach  in  the  morning.  May  God  help  me." 
Notwithstanding,  therefore;  that  his  voice  had  been  thus 
taken  from  him  in,  mercy,  the  next  morning  found  him  in 
the  pulpit  at  eight  o'clock;  and  in  tlie  evening  he  was  at 
Pallas,  where  after  speaking  for  two  hours  he  was  obliged 
to  desist ;  and  moreover  constrained  to  confess,  "  I  never 
was  so  ill  in  my  life."  According  to  his  promise,  however, 
ill  as  he  was,  he  preached  the  following  morning,  though 
his  "body  almost  refused  its  functions,"  and  lie  rather  "cried 
aloud"  than  spoke  as  he  was  wont:  it  would  be  painful -to 
detail  here  the  sufierings  which  constituted  the  natural 
sequel  of  such  agonies  of  ecstasy. 

Now,  who  would  have  dared  to  quench  such  a  spirit  ? 
yet  to  those  who  may  be  seduced  to  follow  his  example,  it 
may  not  be  improper  to  give  a  word  of  caution.  This  con- 
fessedly is  delicate  ground  ;  but  why  not  make  a  stand  u])on 
it  in  the  fear  of  God  ?  While  the  cause  and  glory  of  the  Re- 
deemer was  most  emphatically  the  liriniuon  mobile  of  Mr. 
tSummerfield's  zeal,  yet  might  there  not  be  something  of 
Ibimself'nx  these  preternatural  exertions?  it  could  not  all  be 
of  the  Lord.  It  would  be  wrong  to  speak  dogmatically  on 
so  tender  a  point ;  but  such  is  the  opinion  of  one  of  the  most 
pious  and  judicious  individuals  with  whom  I  am  acquainted; 
who  however  observed  that  he  should  almost  fear  to  utter 
such  a  sentiment,  lest  it  should  be  mistaken,  or  misrepre- 


INCREASING   POPULARITY.  81 

sented,  or  abused.  AYlio,  after  reading  the  accounts  above, 
can  help  thinking  that  on  sucli  occasions,  if  amid  the  whirl- 
wind and  earthquake  and  fire,  he  could  for  a  moment  have 
covered  his  face  and  listened  in  the  silence  of  his  spirit,  he 
might  possibly  have  heard  a  "still  small  voice"  saying, 
"Who  hath  required  this  of  thee  ?" 

And  yet,  amid  all  these  labors,  he  records  his  resolution : 
"I  am  determined  to  begin  this  week  with  living  more  in 
my  room  and  in  my  Bible.  I  have  lost  much  in  this  respect ; 
and  I  am  too  apt  to  walk  out  and  trifle  with  my  precious, 
precious  time."  He  had  a  few  days  before  laudably  "made 
up  his  mind  against  Sunday  dinners  from  home." 

It  is  matter  of  satisfaction  to  transcribe  the  following 
passage,  although  somewhat  diffuse,  from  the  entry  which 
he  made  in  his  diary  on  the  31st  of  January.     It  shows 
how  his  whole   soul  was  on  the  stretch,  to  be  entirely  de- 
voted to  God.     "Tliis  is  my  birthday;   Oh,  what  matter 
have  I  for  shame  and  confusion  of  face.     When  I  look  back 
on  myself,  I  see  great  cause  for  self-abasement.     I  see  that 
ever  since  I  began  to  preach,  my  time  has  not  been  im- 
proved :  occupied  in  visiting — the  destruction  of  some  of  our 
young  preachers  whom  I  could  name — and  travelling  from 
place  to  place ;  mixing  necessarily  with  various  companies 
of  people,  and  not  being  guarded  against  that  levity  which 
creeps  inadvertently  upon   me  ;    all  these   combined  have 
produced  a  dislike  to  closet  duties,  meditation  of  the  word, 
and  prayer.     Though  I  feel  with  shame  my  shortcomings, 
yet  I  am  thankful  that  God  has  not  given  me  over  to  hard- 
ness of  heart ;  my  conscience  is  not  yet  scared  as  with  a  hot 
iron.     I  find  that  if  I  look  for  and  expect  my  God  to  own 
my  labors,  I  must  live  a  life  different  from   most  of  our 
preachers,  for  whom  my  heart  melts.     Oh,  Zion  I   Oh,  Heav- 
en I  thy  cause  I  thy  cause  I  thy  great  concern  I  and  yet  how 
little  it  seems  to  occupy  their  attention.     With  regard  to 
many  of  them,  it  seems  to  have  become  a  trade,  a  mero 

4* 


82  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

form.  My  young  heart  has  been  led  astray.  I  tliought  to 
have  found  among  them  self  denial,  gravity,  piety.  But  ah, 
where  is  fled  the  spirit  of  my  Master  ?  If  I  expect  God  to 
bless  others  under  my  ministry  of  the  word,  I  find  I  must 
not  be  conformed  to  them  ;  I  find  it  necessary  to  swim 
against  the  stream.  Too  many  of  them  preach  Avhat  they 
never  practise.  Oh,  my  Father,  enable  me  from  this  day 
to  dedicate  myself  afresh  to  thee  : 

"  '  Here's  ray  body,  spirit,  soul, 
Only  thou  possess  the  whole.' 

For  the  regulation  of  my  future  conduct,  the  following  is 
the  plan  I  lay  down,  which  I  intend  by  God's  grace  to  put 
in  practice.  I  will  first  tiy  it  for  a  day  :  if  my  God  enable 
me  to  keep  it  a  day,  he  will  for  a  iceek ;  if  for  a  Aveek,  a 
month,  yea,  continually. 

"  Time.  As  I  find  a  natural  sloth  attaches  itself  to  all 
nry  powers,  which  is,  I  believe,  common  to  all  men,  I  think 
there  can  be  no  better  way  of  guarding  against  it,  than  in 
observing  how  every  moment  is  spent ;  and  as  I  am  per- 
suaded I  never  grew  in  grace  so  much  as  when  I  was  thus 
employed,  as  in  the  former  part  of  this  diary  when  I  ac- 
counted for  every  hour,  so  I  intend  renewing  the  same  plan 
and  commencing  to-morrow,  please  God.  Thus  my  con- 
science will  accuse  or  applaud  at  the  close  of  each  day,  ac- 
cording as  my  time  is  employed ;  and  on  that  account,  I 
shall  peruse  it  every  night. 

"Allow  myself  no  more  time  for  sleep  than  necessary. 

"Prayer.  As  I  believe  no  growth  in  grace  will  take 
place  unless  there  be  regular  stated  seasons  for  private  prayer, 
I  purpose  attending  to  three  such  seasons  at  least :  before  I 
leave  my  room  in  the  morning,  before  I  retire  in  the  evening, 
and  at  twelve  o'clock  at  midday.  Be  where  I  may,  this 
must  be  attended  to ;  and  I  must  go  home  to  perform  it,  as 
if  to  meet  any  other  person.  Besides  this,  twice  family 
prayer,  and  visits  to  the  sick. 


INCREASING    ^OPULARlTi^  83 

"  Studies.  All  my  studies  and  learning  to  turn  into  the 
channel  of"  the  glory  of  God  ;  to  read  nothing  but  with  a 
view  to  his  work,  and  all  my  researches  to  be  subservient  to 
the  Bible — to  be  'homo  unius  libri,'  (a  man  of  one  book.') 
Visit  none,  except  for  God's  glor}',  and  stay  no  longer  than 
barely  necessary  ;  guard  the  door  of  my  lips  ;  guard  against 
levity  ;  be  much  employed  in  ejaculatory  and  mental  prayer; 
while  lying  in  bed  night  and  morning,  before  I  sleep  and 
before  I  get  up,  to  employ  myself  in  self  examination,  and 
this  only.  Take  with  me  every  day  a  text  as  a  motto,  to 
be  employing  my.self  upon  while  walking,  or  in  my  leisure 
moments  ;  and  this  day  by  day. 

"Never  speak  ill  of  an  absent  person,  except  the  glory 
of  God  require  it ;  in  short,  to  do  all  with  singleness  of  heart, 
so  that  my  rejoicing  may  be,  that  'in  simjjlicity  and  godly 
sincerity,  I  may  have  my  conversation  in  the  world.'  May 
my  God  enable  me  to  be  more  circumspect ;  and  as  I  com- 
mence anew  in  preaching  more  from  study  than  from  art 
and  memory,  may  my  life  be  commenced  anew ;  and  may 
I  die  in  the  service,  and  reign  with  him  for  ever." 

How  just  are  the  foregoing  remarks  ;  how  pious  the  wri- 
ter's determination.  There  may  however  be  excess,  and 
consequently  danger,  both  ways,  for  ministers.  They  must 
not  be  ascetics,  any  more  than  they  ought  to  be  merry  com- 
panions, w^asting  their  animal  spirits  and  losing  their  gra- 
cious feai's  even  in  the  society  of  religious  people.  "  It  is  not 
good  for  man  to  be  alone,"  even  as  a  minister,  and  a  stran- 
ger to  his  people  in  every  other  character ;  nor  is  it  good  to 
have  a  plurality  of  associates,  so  as  to  dissipate  the  aflections 
by  their  difTusion  ;  but  the  minister  of  the  gospel  should 
stand  among  his  people  as  in  a  family  circle,  in  which  he 
may  move  and  shine,  and  lead  the  way  to  heaven  ;  exem- 
plifying, as  our  Saviour  did,  his  doctrines  in  his  life  ;  and 
making  things  lovely  in  reality,  Avhich  in  pulpit  representa- 
tion appear  repulsive  and  hard  to  iiosh  and  blood.     Oh  how 


84  REV.  JOHN    SUMMEE.FIELD. 

good  ami  how  ])lcasaut  it  is  to  "adorn  the  doctrine  of  God 
our  Saviour  in  all  things." 

The  absolute  distribution  of  his  time  compels  this  objec- 
tion against  its  imitation  by  others — that  its  exemplification 
was  soon  found  impracticable,  even  by  so  rigid  a  devotee  as 
the  conscientious  Summerfield  himself  If  men  will  make 
such  fetters  for  themselves,  they  ought  to  make  them  at 
least  loose  enough  to  correspond  with  Christ's  own  easy 
yoke,  and  not  binding  and  galling  like  the  ceremonial  law, 
which  "neither  wc  nor  our  fathers  were  able  to  bear." 
There  are  sins  enough  both  of  omission  and  commission  into 
which  the  most  watchful  Christian  will  be  hourly  in  danger 
of  falhng,  without  making  occasions  for  shi  by  voluntary 
obligations,  from  which  the  prisoner  who  has  thus  bound  his 
ow^n  hands  and  feet,  hke  Agabus  with  Paul's  girdle,  cannot 
disentangle  himself  without  bringing  darkness  and  confusion 
into  his  mind. 

His  determination  to  choose  a  text  every  day  as  a  motto 
for  meditation,  was  a  most  profitable  and  easy  obligation,  in 
which  there  need  be  no  snare  to  entrap  the  tenderest  con- 
science. He  borrowed  this  from  his  Moravian  recollections. 
In  the  congregations  of  the  brethren  there  are  two  texts, 
and  lines  from  certain  hymns,  appointed  lor  meditation  every 
day  in  the  year. 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter  addressed  to  Mr. 
Summerfield  by  his  father,  will  show  how  devoutly  his  be- 
loved parent  participated  in  the  common  satisfaction  of  his 
son's  ministerial  success.  The  letter  is  dated  from  Cork, 
February  4,  1819.  "Take  care  to  dwell  in  the  divine 
bosom ;  be  faithful  in  heaven's  first  concern  ;  be  a  firm 
friend  to  her  bleeding  interests;  live  nuich  in  the  closet, 
and  you  will  be  useful  in  the  pulpit.  Follow  the  God-Man 
as  your  example  in  all  things ;  keep"  company  with  a 
Fletcher,  a  Wesley,  and  a  Baxter,  who  will  shine  as  stars  in 
the  firmament  for  ever.     In  you  God  has  given  me   my 


INCREASING   POPULARITY.  85 

heart's  desire  ;  and  my  first  concern  on  earth  is,  that  God 
may  be  honored  in  the  aecompUshment  of  his  grand  design 
in  bringing  to  glory  the  lost  posterity  of  Adam  ;  and  my 
daily  prayer  is,  that  you  may  be  the  honored  instrument  in 
turning  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  to  himself:  this  is 
not  too  much  to  ask  of  bleeding  love." 

Although  his  constitution  was  at  this  period  much  shat- 
tered, his  labors  were  unremitting.  On  the  9th  of  February, 
amid  notices  of  floods  of  heavenly  light  poured  upon  certain 
portions  of  Scripture,  and  uncoiTimon  sweetness  in  his  noon- 
tide devotions,  he  incidentally  remarks,  "My  bodily  frame 
is  quite  decayed;"  and  yet,  ten  days  afterwards,  he  notes 
that  in  the  preceding  week  he  had  rode  forty-one  miles,  and 
incached  ten  times.  *  *  * 

On  the  14th  of  February,  he  preached  "a  missionary  ser- 
mon at  Birr,  and  collected  treble  the  amount  of  any  former 
occasion.  On  the  following  day  he  addressed  a  large  con- 
gregation of  children  at  the  same  place,  and  pleased  them 
so  well  that  at  their  own  desire  a  collection  was  made.  He 
often  addressed  auditories  of  young  people  in  after-years. 
Among  the  Moravians  he  had  been  accustomed  to  those  ser- 
vices, which  are  very  frequent  with  them  under  the  denomi- 
nation of  "Children's  meetings;"  and  in  such  meetings  no 
doubt  the  seed  was  sown  which  on  this  very  15th  of  Feb- 
ruary was  producing  good  fruit  in  his  own  heart  and  life, 
and  enabling  him,  having  as  a  child  "freely  received"  of 
the  good  word  of  God,  "freely  to  communicate"  of  the  same 
to  little  children ;  aye,  and  to  obtain  an  earnest  in  hand 
that  it  would  produce  ripe  fruit  in  due  season  in  some  of 
their  hearts. 

On  the  27th  of  February  he  arrived  safe  at  his  father's 
house  in  Cork,  and  declined  an  invitation  to  preach  on  the 
following  day  because  his  "body  required  some  rest."  And 
well  it  might,  as  on  the  preceding  cvenhig  he  thus  sums  up 
the  amount  of  his  labors  :  "I  have  now  preached  fifty  times 


86  REV.   JOHN    SUMMIT  RFIELD. 

since  I  left  Dublin  this  time,  which  is  seven  weeks  since ; 
and  I  have  in  that  period  travelled  three  hundred  and  sixty- 
two  miles  up  to  Cork."  A  man  may  be  prodigal  of  God's 
spiritual  gifts  as  well  as  of  providential  ones,  and  in  both  in- 
stances want  must  follow  waste,  or  early  exhaustion  be  the 
consequence  of  reckless  profusion.  Let  any  learned  and  ex- 
perienced Christian  minister  say  whether  a  young  man 
twenty-two  years  of  age,  and  scarcely  ttaelve  months  old  as 
a  lyrcacUcr,  did  right  to  spend  and  be  spent  after  this  rate. 
Travelling  three  hundred  and  sixty-two  miles,  and  preach- 
ing fifty  times  in  seven  weeks  I  "a  frame  of  adamant,  a  soul 
of  fire"  would  be  worn  out  with  such  perpetuity  of  feverish 
excitement ;  what  then  could  a  frail  body  viith  a  hectic  con- 
stitution do,  or  rather,  what  must  it  suffer,  in  such  a  case  ? 
To  adopt  an  elegant  simile  from  my  friend  Montgomery, 
elicited  by  a  perusal  of  the  forementioned  entry:  "I  have 
seen  fire  carried  in  a  handful  of  dry  grass  hastily,  lest  it 
should  burst  out  into  flame,  to  light  a  heap  of  stubble  in 
autumn ;  and  I  have  seen  it  instantaneously  consumed 
when  applied  to  the  materials  thus  collected.  Summcrfield 
so  carried  his  life  in  his  hands  ;  and  though  he  was  enabled 
to  kindle  heap  after  heap,  at  last,  and  long  before  his  time 
as  man  would  say,  he  was  compelled  to  let  it  drop ;  it  fell 
to  ashes,  for  it  was  but  tinder  at  the  first.  Let  others  be 
warned,  who  like  him  have  the  holy  flame  m  their  hearts 
wrapt  round  with  the  weeds  of  the  body,  lest  that  which 
burns  within  consume  that  which  is  without,  and  thus 
become  itself  extinct,  on  earth  at  least,  for  lack  of  fuel.  It 
ought  to  be  cherished ;  not  opened  to  the  whole  atmosphere 
at  once,  any  more  than  suflbcated  by  being  too  closely 
pressed."  But  this  devoted  young  man,  upon  whom  rested 
so  much  of  "the  spirit  and  power  of  Elias,"  although  he 
lived  a  dying  life,  experienced  in  the  sequel  as  little  of  death 
as  could  consist  with  a  translation  from  life  to  immortality  ; 
indeed,  his  progi-ess  from  earth  to  heaven  all  but  resembled 


INCREASlNCr   I'OrULAIUTY.  87 

the  ascent  of  the  prophet  of  mount  Carnicl :  in  lUlth,  in 
lahor,  in  devotion,  he  "went  up  in  a  chariot  of  fire."  Who 
in  England,  Irchmd,  America,  hath  caught  his  mantle? 

Being  now  at  home,  he  was  frequently  engaged  iu  busi- 
ness for  his  father ;  this,  ^nd  other  engagements,  led  him 
frequently  to  lament  his  defective  performance  of  many  of 
his  birthday  resolutions.  Indeed,  the  task  was  impractica- 
ble to  him,  as  he  was  circumstanced ;  and  he  who  attempts 
to  do  more  than  he  can,  frequently  in  reality  does  less, 
because  he  spends  much  of  his  strength  for  naught  and 
wearies  liis  spirit  with  fretting  and  remorse.  To  these 
chances  the  susceptible  subject  of  these  pages  was  inevi- 
tably exposed  ;  hence  his  frequent  complaints  of  losing  or 
misspending  time  in  company,  on  a  journey,  or  in  his 
father's  house. 

A  few  passages  indicative  of  his  spiritual  state  at  this 
period  will  be  acceptable.  February  28.  "I  grew  this  day 
in  grace  and  knowledge  ;  the  sacred  page  had  new  beauties 
and  ideas  to  my  soul."  March  4.  "My  mind  has  been 
sweetly  exercising  faith  in  Jesus  this  day,  and  I  see  the 
dawn  of  day."  March  7.  "My  Jesus  was  precious  to  me 
this  morning ;  my  heart  was  melted  down,  and  he  gave  me 
a  sweet  foretaste  of  the  good  things  of  this  day."  March  8. 
"  I  am  quite  hoarse  to-day,  after  yesterday's  exertions ;  but 
my  Jesus  has  paid  me  for  it  all  by  a  sweet  sense  of  his  love 
M-hich  I  feel  upon  me."  March  10.  "My  mind  is  truly  de- 
jected ;  for  these  last  two  days  I  have  been  in  Gethsemane. 
I  long  for  the  time  of  refreshing.  Come,  my  Lord,  come 
quickly.  I  cried  unto  the  Lord  ;  he  heard  me  and  delivered 
mc  from  all  my  troubles.  I  seldom  had  such  a  pouring  out 
of  the  divine  glory.  Bless  the  Lord,  0  my  soul ;  magnify 
his  great  name.  Applied  myself  to  reading  pnnclpally  iu 
THE  BOOK."  Next  morning  :  "  Commenced  my  Bible  again  ; 
my  mind  is  much  happier  this  day  than  yesterday.  I  have 
a  little  faith,  a  little  love,  a  little  labor ;  0,  my  Lord,  do 


88  REV.  JOHN    SUMMERFIELD. 

thou  inorcasc  it."  There  is  nothing-  more  exemplary  in 
Summerfieltl's  preparations  for  ministerial  labors,  than  his 
devoted  attention  to  the  holy  Scriptures.  He  drew  water 
for  himself  from  the  well-springs  of  salvation,  and  he  drew 
it  with  joy,  that  he  might  refresh  his  own  soul  before  he 
went  to  call  aloud  to  others,  "Ho,  every  one  that  thirsteth, 
come  ye  unto  the  water.s." 

Towards  the  latter  end  of  March,  he  was  seriously  indis- 
posed ;  violent  pains  and  retchings  of  the  stomach,  accom- 
panied with  other  alarming  symptoms,  led  him  and  his 
friends  to  apprehend  that  danger  was  at  hand.  Ill  however 
as  he  was,  he  neither  remitted  his  studies  nor  forbore  his 
pulpit  labors  while  he  could  attend  to  cither.  He  had  no 
mercy  upon  himself;  nor,  as  it  appears,  were  any  of  his 
counsellors  merciful  unto  him.  There  is  but  too  much 
truth  in  the  following  extract  of  a  letter  addressed  to  him 
by  the  Rev.  S.  Steele,  dated  April  2d:  "I  am  sorry  to  find 
that  your  health  is  worse  than  it  was  when  you  were  here. 
Preaching  so  often  in  the  week  to  large  congregations,  is  too 
great  an  exercise  of  body  and  mind  for  your  constitution  ; 
but  you  will  learn  to  be  wise  when  it  is  too  late.  There 
are  many  of  the  Methodists  who  in  their  godly  zeal  would 
encourage  you  to  preach  until  you  would  drop  down  dead. 
But  remember,  neither  God  nor  man  will  thank  you  for 
what  may  be  called  religious  suicide."  And  yet  the 
main  object  of  this  very  letter  was  to  solicit  his  services  at 
Roscrea. 

On  the  13th  of  April  Mr.  Summerfield  attended  the 
aimual  meeting  of  the  Sunday-school  Association,  in  Dublin, 
Mr.  Sherift"  White  in  the  chair.  On  this  occasion  he  deliv- 
ered what  he  calls  his  "  maiden  speech  ;"  for  although  he 
had  prepared  his  mind  to  speak  at  a  missionary-meeting 
some  months  before,  a  change  in  the  resolutions  prevented 
him  from  saying  what  he  intended.  *  *  * 

On  the  19th  of  April  he*wrote  from  Dublin  to  his  eldest 


INCREASING    POPULARITY.  89 

sister  iu  New  York,  the  following  description  of  his  religious 
experience. 

"  The  circumstances  iu  which  I  have  been  involved  since 
I  last  wrote  you,  are  the  only  reasons  for  this  long  pause ; 
they  have  been  multifarious  indeed  :  to  recapitulate  them 
would  "be  certainly  a  display  of  the  wonderful  dealings  of 
Providence  with  regard  to  me,  such  as  seem  unparalleled  ; 
but  they  are  now  over,  and  I  thank  God  for  the  deliv- 
erance. 

"As  my  father  wrote  to  you  some  time  ago,  you  have 
some  idea  of  the  change  which,  by  the  grace  of  God,  has 
been  eflected  in  me  :  you  know  what  I  teas,  God  knows 
what  I  am.  If  you  except  family  and  filial  aflection,  of 
which  I  was  never  devoid,  you  may  fill  up  the  catalogue  oi 
my  conduct  in  any  way  you  please.     Truly 

'"I  the  chief  of  sinners  am, 
But  Jesus  died  for  me.' 

Various  were  the  chastisements  which  God  laid  upon  me  to 
bring  me  to  himself — prisons,  distresses,  afflictions,  nay,  I 
might  add  death  itself.  This  last  had  the  efTect :  while  my 
body  was  brought  down  to  the  verge  of  the  pit,  my  mind 
began  to  think  of  God.  'I  vowed  a  vow  unto  the  Lord  ;' 
he  knows  the  nature  of  it — he  received  it — I  was  restored  to 
health,  and  by  the  strength  of  the  Lord  I  am  perform- 
ing it. 

"  I  began  to  seek  Him  whom  I  had  before  despised  ;  the 
world  was  stripped  of  her  charms  ;  I  saw  with  new  eyes : 
Jesus  was  the  only  amiable  object;  while  I  loathe  myself  in 
dust  and  ashes,  'that  I  so  late  to  him  did  turn.'  However, 
my  cry  was  incessant, 

'"Only  Jesus  will  I  know, 
And  Jesus  crucified.' 

"  Long  was  my  struggle  for  mercy,  severe  was  my  agony  ; 
often  tempted  to  suicide  to  rid  myself  of  the  pangs  of  a 


90  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERF[ELD. 

wounded  spirit;  but  finally  the  Lord  lifted  upon  me  the 
light  of  his  countenance,  and  spoke  to  my  heart  as  with  an 
audible  voice,  '  I  have  loved  thee  with  an  everlasting  love.' 

0  how  was  I  melted ;  I  wept — but  they  were  tears  of  joy. 

1  groaned,  but  they  were  unutterable  groans.  Heaven  pro- 
claimed, '  My  beloved  is  mine  ;'  and  my  heart  replied,  '  I  am 
his.'  Thus  I  began  to  serve  the  Lord.  This  was  October, 
1817,  now  a  year  and  a  half  ago;  but  Oh,  what  has  God 
done  since  then.  Last  September  I  embarked  in  the  same 
vessel  with  Jesus.  I  began  the  ministration  of  the  word  of 
life  to  others.  Six  months  have  I  wearied  this  feeble  body 
in  the  laborious  calling,  and  yet  I  am  not  tired ;  I  hope  I 
shall  never  put  ofi' the  harness." 

On  the  13th  of  May  he  had  a  narrow  escape  with  his 
life,  in  consequence  of  a  fall  from  his  horse  just  as  he  enter- 
ed Dublin  ;  that  he  was  not  killed  on  the  spot,  nor  his  horse 
injured,  he  gratefully  ascribes  to  the  providence  of  God. 
Had  he  been  half  as  much  in  fear  for  himself,  as  he  was  for 
his  horse  on  this  occasion,  he  might  have  escaped  with  his 
life  much  longer,  and  not  have  died  as  he  did  by  a  fall  from 
Idmsclf. 

Notwithstanding  this  misfortune,  by  which  he  received 
serious  internal  injury,  he  preached  on  the  fourth  day  after- 
wards to  a  large  congregation,  for  the  benefit  of  a  female 
orphan  asylum.  The  eflect  of  this  sermon  will  not  soon  be 
forgotten  by  those  who  heard  it.  He  called  to  mind  the 
afiection  of  his  own  mother,  and  the  motherless  state  of  his 
two  younger  sisters  ;  the  current  of  emotion  thus  drawn  out 
of  his  own  bosom  flowed  into  the  current  of  feehng  which 
his  description  drew  from  the  hearts  of  others ;  and  the  im- 
pression became  so  powerful  and  general  that  utterance  failed 
him,  and  he  sat  down  beckoning  the  children  to  stand  up 
and  finish  the  plea  for  their  cause  with  silent  eloquence.  He 
sat  bathed  in  tears  and  expectorating  a  quantity  of  blood, 
which  had  collected  on  his  lungs  since  his  accident ;  this,  in 


INCREASING  rOPULARITY.  91 

connection  with  his  unremitting  exertions,  brouglit  him  as 
we  shall  presently  see  to  the  verge  of  the  grave. 

In  addition  to  all  that  has  been  said  on  the  subject  of 
"  making  rules  to  live  by,"  see  the  following  reflections,  at 
the  close  of  May  18  :  "  I  see  I  have  of  late  neglected  my  time 
in  an  alarming  way,  and  I  find  that  when  time  is  loitered 
away,  grace  is  declining  in  the  heart.  I  was  much  struck 
with  an  advice  in  a  magazine,  '  to  live  by  rule.'  I  have 
often  resolved,  and  often  broken ;  in  the  strength  of  Christ 
I  will  begin  again.  I  am  resolved  to  be  in  bed  at  ten  o'clock 
every  night,  and  rise  at  four.  From  four  to  five  in  the  morn- 
ing, twelve  to  one  mid-day,  and  five  to  six  evening,  shall  be 
hours  sacred  to  God,  for  prayer,  meditation,  and  reading  his 
word  :  no  less  a  proportion  of  time  will  do  for  me  ;  and  half 
past  nine  to  ten,  before  retiring.  The  remainder  of  my  time 
to  be  regularly  accounted  for,  and  dealt  out  with  circum- 
spection." "VYhat  premeditated  though  unconscious  suicide 
is  involved  in  these  resolutions  I  Yet  who  could  have  for- 
bidden the  sclf-ofiering  to  the  Lord  ?  Nevertheless,  as  already 
intimated,  we  are  required  to  present  "  a  livi)ig  sacrifice, 
holy  and  acceptable  to  God,  which  is  our  reasonable  service :" 
we  are  besought  "  by  the  mercies  of  God,"  to  surrender  our 
bodies — emphatically  our  bodies,  including  our  souls  with  all 
their  powers  and  aflections — because  when  the  body  is  burnt 
out  the  sacrifice  is  complete,  as  was  the  case  with  the  vic- 
tims on  the  altar  in  the  temple.  Whatever  service  may  be 
required  in  the  temple  not  made  with  hands,  from  the  spirits 
of  just  men  made  perfect,  it  will  not  be  sacrifice.  The  sac- 
rifice on  earth,  then,  ought  to  be  made  as  perfect,  as  long  in 
endurance,  as  possible.  It  will  be  in  vain  to  say  in  defence 
of  such  self-immolation  as  Summerfield's,  that  the  "  fire  fi'om 
God"  descended  and  consumed  the  holocaust  at  once,  like 
Elijah's  on  Carmel;  for  even  if  this  were  evident  beyond 
doubt,  Avhlch  it  is  not  in  his  case,  let  others  beware  lest 
they  destroy  themselves  as  early  by  a  conflagration   from 


92     •  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

sparks  of  their  own  lundling.  But  what  does  this  t;xample 
say  to  those  who  sacrifice  ^loiliing  of  themselves ;  or  at  best, 
bring  oblations  of  no  value  to  the  Lord's  altar  ? 

At  the  close  of  the  month  of  May,  he  proceeded  accord- 
ing to  invitation  to  Waterford,  "  where,"  says  he,  "  the 
friends  were  glad  to  see  me,  and  none  more  so  than  my 
beloved  brother  W.  Stewart ;  he  is  an  Israelite  indeed,  in 
whom  is  no  guile."  At  this  place  he  was  seized  with  a  pro- 
fuse spitting  of  blood,  to  which  indeed  he  had  become  alarm- 
ingly subject.  His  friends  were  justly  frightened — though 
himself  "  felt  happy  under  the  affliction" — and  called  in  an 
eminent  physician,  Dr.  Poole,  who  bled  him  for  the  first 
time,  and  interdicted  him  from  preaching  :  this  was  on  Sat- 
urday ;  and  yet,  as  Mr.  Stewart  informs  me,  he  was  with 
difficulty  restrained  from  appearing  in  the  pulpit  on  the  fol- 
lowing day. 

In  reference  to  this  severe  affliction,  he  wrote  to  his  be- 
loved friend  and  brother  the  Rev.  Edward  Cobain,  under 
date  of  Waterford,  29th  of  May,  1819: 

"  The  present  state  of  my  health  rccpiires  indulgence.  I 
have  exceeded  my  strength.  I  preached  in  Dublin  last 
Sunday  at  two  o'clock,  and  again  at  seven  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  to  upwards  of  two  thousand  people  each  time,  and 
I  felt  such  uncommon  liberty  that  my  heart  was  too  great 
for  the  casement  of  the  body.  I  exerted  myself  a  great  deal, 
and  felt  a  material  inward  cliange  in  my  frame  on  Monday. 
After  I  had  preached  on  Tuesday  evening  and  had  gone  to 
bed,  I  was  obliged  to  rise  suddenly  by  the  flowing  of  blood 
through  my  throat,  and  it  was  a  long  time  before  I  dare  fall 
asleep ;  it  has  continued  since  then,  and  last  night  it  was 
very  severe. 

"  But  I  feel  resigned  to  the  will  of  my  heavenly  Father  ; 
perhaps  he  is  going  to  throw  me  aside  as  a  useless  vessel.  I 
know  he  does  not  need  my  poor  aid,  and  I  believe  I  am  as 
willing  to  suffer  his  will  as  to  do  it.     I  only  desire  Christ 


INCREASING   POrULARITY.  93 

Jesus  to  be  maguified  by  me,  and  I  care  not  whether  it  is  by 
my  Hfe  or  in  my  death.  I  feel  much  happier  under  my 
afihction  than  at  any  other  period  ;  my  soul  is  more  chasten- 
ed and  heavenly-minded,  and  I  do  hope  to  be  a  great  gainer 
by  it,  if  the  Lord  see  fit  to  recover  me. 

"  I  pant  after  a  full  conformity  to  the  mmd  of  Jesus.  I 
feel  I  want  the  abiding  witness  of  the  Spirit.  I  want  to 
arrive  at  that  state  when 

"  'Not  a  cloud  shall  arise 
To  darken  the  skies, 
Or  hide  for  one  moment 
My  Lord  from  my  eyes.' 

I  want  to  know  the  Spirit  of  truth,  not  merely  as  the  inspi- 
ration of  God,  but'  the  influence  of  God — not  as  breathing 
upon  the  soul,  but  a.'&floiving  i?i  and  through  the  heart.  I 
desire  him  as  a  well  of  w'ater  springi?ig  zqj  to  eternal  life, 
and  thus  cleansing  from  all  sin ;  in  short,  I  wish  to  experi- 
ence him  as  my  sanctifying  Lord,  and  not  merely  as  my 
jiisttfijing  Saviour.  0  how  great  the  change.  Earnestly 
do  I  desire  it. 

"  '  Restless,  resigned,  for  this  I  wait, 
For  this  my  vehement  soul  stands  still.^ 

"  We  never  discover  the  glory  of  our  dispensation  till  the 
ehange  is  wrought  in  us ;  and  yet  how  few  press  after  it. 
Though  the  Christian  church  knows  the  Spirit  of  truth  as 
being  tvith  them,  yet  how  few  know  him  as  being  in 
them. 

"  To-morrow  we  commemorate  the  descent  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  I  look  for  a  pcntecostal  shower.  0  may  you,  my 
dear  friend,  be  filled  with  all  the  fulness  of  God." 

An   event   of  great  importance   in  the   settlement,   or 

rather,  as  it  turned  out,  the  tinsettlenicnt  of  this  heavenly 

minded  man  in  after-life,  occurred  at  this  period.     Having 

in  the  month  of  March  preceding  been  formally  proposed  to 

.  travel  as  a  preacher  in  the  Methodist  connection,  and  having 


94  E.EV.  JOHN   SUMMERF  IE  l-D. 

satisfactorily  answered  the  questions  usually  put  to  candi- 
dates for  the  ministry,  Mr.  Summerfield  proceeded  with  his 
friend  Mr.  Stewart  from  "Waterford  to  attend  the  Irish  con- 
ference, held  in  Dublin,  at  which  city  they  arrived  in  safety 
on  the  30th  of  June.  His  case  was  now  ofllcially  and  anx- 
iously considered  ;  and  it  appeared,  after  very  mature  delib- 
eration, that  the  delicacy  of  his  health  at  that  time,  and  the 
consequent  improbability  of  his  being  long  able  to  endure 
the  difficulties  and  fatigues  of  itinerancy  in  Ireland,  forbade 
the  experiment  of  appointing  him  forthwith  to  a  circuit. 
And  the  conference  was  thus  induced  to  suspend  the  execu- 
tion of  their  eager  wish  of  sending  him  to  travel,  for  another 
year,  hoping  that  his  health  might  in  the  interim  be  restored. 
Meanwhile  he  was  appointed  to  fill  Mr.  Maynes'  place  in 
Dublin,  till  that  preacher  should  return,  with  the  other 
Irish  delegates,  from  the  British  conference.  "Alas,  alas," 
says  he,  on  receiving  this  appointment,  "  I  know  not  how  I 
can  bear  this  burden.  0  Lord,  my  God,  be  thou  my 
strength." 

During  the  conference  season  in  Dublin,  the  annual 
meeting  of  the  Methodist  Missionary  Society  was  held  there, 
at  which  the  E-ev.  J.  Edmondson  presided.  On  this  occasion 
Mr.  Summerfield,  in  moving  a  vote  of  thanks  to  the  English 
committee,  made  a  speech  which  not  a  little  confirmed  to 
the  Enghsh  preachers  present  the  reports  which  they  had 
heard  of  his  piety  and  talents.  On  this  as  on  a  previous 
occasion,  I  might  remark  upon  the  difficulty,  not  to  say  the 
impropriety,  of  giving,  as  a  specimen  of  a  speech,  any  por- 
tion of  memoranda  merely  made  to  assist  the  speaker's 
memory.  1  shall  however  give  a  passage  which  refers  to  a 
name  consecrated  in  missionary  annals ;  it  is  merely  the 
radical  idea,  and  was  beautifully  unfolded  in  passing  through 
the  speaker's  lips,  but  I  confine  myself  to  the  words  of  his 
incipient  draught :  "  The  idea  of  Christianizing  the  Asiatic 
world  was  one  which  seemed  too  great  foi"  human  concep- 


INCREASING  POTULARITY.  95 

tioii.  Yes,  sir,  the  very  idea  Avas  one  which  could  only  have 
had  birth  in  an  apostle's  miyd.  But  yet  there  was  found  a 
man  among  the  tribes  of"  our  spiritual  Israel,  possessed  of  a 
mind  which  conceived  the  grand  design  :  to  the  earthen 
vessel  which  contained  the  deposit,  men  gave  the  name  of 
Coke  ;  heaven  will  reveal  his  true  name  in  '  that  day.'  In 
his  devotedness  to  the  service  of  his  God  and  the  best  inter- 
ests of  mankmd,  he  was  equalled  by  feiv — surpassed  by 
no7ie.  At  the  feet  of  his  Master  he  laid  his  wealth,  his  ease, 
his  honor,  his  character,  nay,  his  life  itself.  He  sacrificed 
all ;  he  was  the  slave  of  slaves  :  unwearied  in  the  work  of 
heaven,  no  dangers  could  intimidate — no  allurements  seduce 
him  from  his  one  pursuit.  He  was  like  Paul,  like  Wesley,  a 
man  of  one  business.  Ceylon  had  long  been  the  object  of 
his  contemplation,  and  the  fulfilment  of  his  wishes  and  his 
prayers  seemed  now  accomplished  ;  preparations  made,  and 
standard-bearers  obtained  who  w'ere  willing  to  carry  tho 
banners  of  the  cross,  he  quits  his  native  shore.  You,  sir, 
followed  him  wcU-nigh  to  the  beach,  and  little  thought  to 
see  his  face  no  more.  But  he  is  not ;  for  God  took  him. 
Not  far  distant  from  the  promised  land,  his  Master  called 
him  to  a  higher  mount  than  Pisgah's  top,  to  view  the  goodly 
shore  ;  he  heard  him  say,  '  Come  up  hither ;'  welcome  sum- 
mons to  his  waiting  soul.  The  body  of  this  Moses  has 
indeed  been  hidden  from  us  ;  but  we  dispute  not  concerning 
it,  for  we  sorrow  not  as  those  without  hope  :  we  take  the 
Bible  in  our  hands  and  inscribe  beneath  his  name,  '  Pleas- 
ant in  life,  and  in  death  not  divided.'  The  dispensation 
seemed  severe  to  human  ken  ;  to  liim  it  was  merciful.  His 
death  seemed  without  pam ;  his  frame  was  not  worn  with 
disease,  nor  his  features  distorted  with  agony  ;  and  his  body 
sunk  in  the  flood,  as  it  will  arise  in  the  morning  of  the 
resurrection,  with  a  blooming,  heavenly  countenance.  He 
shall  not  be  forgotten ;  for  in  the  day  when  Christ  shall 
gather  up  his  jewels,  Coke  shall  be  collected  from  the  ocean's 


9G  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

bed,  a  diamond  of  the  purest  water.  Pardon  me,  my  bretli- 
ren,  I  dwell  on  his  name  with  }ileasurc  ;  I  loved  the  man,  I 
love  his  memory  still  :  ycnt  knew  his  worth,  you  know  his 
great  reward ;  and  though  no  marble  urn  can  boast  of  con- 
cealing his  remains,  his  name  is  engraven  upon  all  your 
hearts  ;  and  while  unadulterated  goodness,  ennobling  talent, 
genuine  worth,  and  sterling  piety  shall  find  one  lover  among 
men,  the  name  of  Coke  shall  be  preserved  from  the  ravages 
of  time,  and  finally  displayed  with  all  its  glories  in  the 
archives  of  the  upper  and  the  better  world." 


CLOSING   LABORS    IN   IRELAND.  97 

CHAPTER   IX. 

RELIGIOUS  EXPERIEXCE— RESOLVES  TO  AVOID  TEA-PARTIES- 
PREACHES  AT  THE  REQUEST  OF  THE  EARL  OF  ROSSE— A  DAN- 
GEROUS ILLNESS  — LETTER  TO  HIS  SISTER  — RESUMES  HIS  I,A- 
BORS,  AND  ADDRESSES  LARGE  CONGREGATIONS— EXERCISICS  OF 
SPIRIT— LOYALTY— ANXIOUS  TO  VISIT  ENGLAND. 

Mr.  Summerfield,  like  most  other  good  men  who  have 
large  experience  of  the  things  of  God — especially  when  pos- 
sessing temperaments  as  fervent  as  his  own — was  subject 
to  many  and  often  very  painful  fluctuations  of  religious  feel- 
ing. These  variations  of  the  devotional  temperature,  so  to 
speak,  are  probably  much  less  uncommon  with  strong  or  sus- 
ceptible minds,  than  ordinary  persons  arc  willing  to  suppose ; 
but  few,  very  few  indeed,  have  the  faculty  to  distinguish 
with  that  accuracy,  or  would  have  the  courage  to  record 
their  discoveries  with  that  fidelity  Avhich  characterizes  the 
precious  autobiographical  sketches  of  the  heart  of  this  inter- 
esting individual,  yuinmerlield,  while  all  his  labors  might 
seem  to  be  wrought  amid  the  tempest  of  an  enthusiasm  at 
once  irresistible  to  himself  and  his  hearers,  was  at  the  same 
time  in  his  "inner  man"  an  exquisite  spiritual  barometer, 
graduated  with  surprising  delicacy  through  the  entire  scale 
of  religious  experience.  To  those  professors  of  religion  who 
are  content  to  live  at  the  zero  of  orthodoxy,  his  language 
must  sometimes  appear  strange  indeed ;  but  to  others,  who 
have  known  something  of  those  "deep  things  of  God"  which 
pertain  more  or  less  to  every  true  member  of  the.  body  of 
Christ,  these  alternate  elevations  and  depressions,  through 
all  their  degrees,  are  neither  unintelligible  nor  strange.  The 
most  exalted  spirit,  while  compassed  about  with  the  infirmi- 
ties of  the  flesh,  must  never  expect  to  enjoy  a  perpetually 
unclouded  vip^iou,  much  less  an  invariable  beatitude  of  feel- 
ing.    A  i^ew  passages  from  the  diary  shall  be  given. 

"June  17.  My  soul  Avas  still  more  strongly  led  out  after 

Sammerfeld.  5 


98  REV.   .101IN    riUMMERFIELlJ. 

God  this  morning  tlian  of  late.  Oh  that  I  knew  where  i 
might  find  him.  I  view  myself"  as  the  most  abandoned  of 
all  sinners ;  I  am  tempted  to  wish  that  I  was  openly  profane, 
as  being  in  a  more  likely  way  to  obtain  the  salvation  of  God 
than  in  my  present  state.  I  know  not  what  to  do.  Lord, 
pity  me  in  my  low  estate.  Oh  make  thyself  known  nnto 
me  I"  Here  he  was  beset  with  a  horrible  temptation,  and 
appeared  surrounded  with  the  blackness  of  darkness  itself ; 
but  lo,  the  very  next  day  the  cloud  is  dispersed  :  "I  think," 
says  he,  "I  see  the  dawn  of  eternal  day  upon  my  soul;  but 
I  anxiously  cry,  Oh,  when  will  He  fully  appear?  However, 
by  his  grace,  I  am  determined  to  persevere."  And  pres- 
ently perseverance  had  its  reward — in  the  following  passage, 
"  the  true  light  shineth."  "June  20.  This  has  been  one  of 
my  happiest  days ;  I  have  been  greatly  blessed."  On  a 
review  of  the  dealings  of  God  with  his  soul,  he  thus  strik- 
ingly expresses  himself  on  the  16th  of  August  :  "  Many  are 
the  consolations  which  in  the  last  three  weeks  I  have  expe- 
rienced ;  but  my  experience  is  still  variable  :  one  day  on  the 
mount,  another  in  the  garden ;  one  day  hardly  knowing 
whether  I  am  in  the  body  or  out  of  it,  and  perhaps  the 
very  next,  ready  to  give  uji  the  beginning  of  my  confidence 
and  fall  from  the  grace  of  God.  But  I  bless  the  Lord  that 
his  grace  is  sufficient  for  me,  and  in  his  strength  I  am  de- 
termined to  follow  on  to  know  the  Lord." 

During  Mr.  Summerfield's  temporary  appointment  in 
Dublin,  notwithstanding  that  he  preached  nine,  seven,  and 
Jive  times  a  week,  he  was  a  good  deal  engaged  with  visiting, 
as  must  generally  be  the  case  with  a  favorite  preacher,  espe- 
cially in  a  large  city.  This  practice  was  not  only  opposed 
to  the  rules  which  he  had  laid  down  for  the  government  of 
his  time,  but  really  injurious  in  its  tendency.  "I  always 
feel,"  says  he,  "^that  tea-parties  are  as  so  many  fungi  to  my 
soul."  On  the  commencement,  therefore,  of  a  fresh  volume 
of  his  diary,  he  resolved   "to  turn   over  a  new  leaf;"   and 


CLOSINCt  labors  TN  IRELAND.  99 

accordingly  entered  on  its  first  page  the  following  resolu- 
tions : 

"  1.  Never  to  go  out  to  breakfast.  This  squanders  all 
the  forenoon  away,  which  is  the  most  valuable  part  of  my 
time. 

"2.  With  regard  to  dining  abroad,  as  I  purpose  rising 
at  four  in  the  morning,  and  remaining  in  my  studies  all  day 
till  dinner-time,  it  may  not  injure  me  to  relax  my  mind,  but 
always  take  care  to  bring  Jesus  with  me,  and  guard  against 
religious-  dissipation. 

"3.  Never  to  breakfast  or  dine  abroad  on  Saticrday. 
"  4.  Always  to  return  home  after  preaching,  and  never 
to  go  back  to  the  family  with  whom  I  dined.     This  does 
no  good,  keeps  the  family  up,  and  injures  my  own  health. 

"5.  Avoid  all  tea-parties,  as  they  are  called,  as  much 
as  possible  :  they  seldom  do  good." 

It  was  his  practice,  wherever  he  visited,  to  seek  the 
spiritual  edification  of  all  present,  and  he  always  considered 
the  time  as  worse  than  lost  when  this  had  not  been  the 
case.  He  several  times  visited,  at  her  special  request,  the 
Hon.  Mrs.  Butler,  in  Richmond-place;  but  even  here  he 
resolved  to  leave  a  savor  of  his  sacred  character  behind  him  ; 
to  which  end,  he  not  only  recommended  family  prayer,  but 
set  them  an  example  which  there  was  reason  to  believe  was 
not  in  vain. 

The  following  little  incident  is  affecting.  He  was  at  the 
quarterly  meeting  of  the  Strangers'  Friend  Society  :  "While 
calling  over  the  names  as  they  lay  in  the  list,  I  was  much 
struck  when  Mr.  Tobias  named  John  Smith  ;  a  silence  en- 
sued, and  brother  Tobias  added,  '  Before  the  throne  of  God  f 
he  died  in  the  last  quarter.  Oh,  may  I  work  while  it  is 
called  day."  The  brief,  significant  phrase,  "bcibre  the 
throne  of  God,"  comes  like  a  voice  interpreting  the  silence 
that  went  before. 

On  the  15th  of  September,  his  engagement  in  Dublin 


100  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

was  terminated  by  the  return  of  Mr.  Mayne  from  Limerick. 
He  next  visited  Roscrea,  Birr,  and  Parsontown.  On  his 
arrival  at  the  latter  place,  he  found  the  family  of  the  Earl 
of  Rosse  had  made  a  request  that  he  vi'ould  preach  at  two 
o'clock  in  the  courthouse.  With  fear  and  trembling  he 
complied  ;  the  bell-man  was  sent  round  to  announce  the 
service  ;  and  at  the  appointed  time,  he  preached  to  a  vast 
assemblage  of  the  nobility,  gentry,  and  others,  many  of  whom 
had  never  before  heard  a  Methodist  sermon.  At  first  he 
was  somewhat  overawed  ;  but  casting  bis  care  on  the  Lord, 
he  felt  his  usual  liberty,  and  several  of  his  friends  afterwards 
declared  that  they  never  heard  him  preach  with  greater 
pathos  and  energy.  Although  the  congregation  was  so 
large  and  composed  of  all  ranks  and  sects,  the  most  pro- 
found attention  prevailed,  and  many  appeared  much  affect- 
ed. He  preached  in  the  evening  at  the  chapel,  which  was 
BO  crowded  with  strangers  that  the  regular  hearers  and 
friends  stood  on  the  outside,  all  the  windows  being  taken 
out  that  they  might  hear. 

On  the  10th  of  October  he  again  arrived  at  his  father's 
house  in  Cork,  after  having  been  thoroughly  drenched  with 
a  day  and  night's  rain  on  the  outside  of  the  coach,  which 
had  broken  down  twice  during  the  journey.  He  was  justly 
alarmed  at  the  anticipated  consequences  of  this  unwonted 
exposure  to  the  cold  and  wet,  delicate  as  he  then  was ;  he 
therefore  willingly  availed  himself  of  the  invitation  of  his 
old  friend  Mr.  Edwards  to  spend  a  short  time  at  his  delight- 
ful residence  on  Hop  island.  He  had,  however,  only  been 
domiciled  in  this  retreat  a  few  days,  when  the  disorder, 
which  had  long  been  growing  upon  him,  in  consequence  of 
excessive  labor  and  fatigue — certain  glandular  obstructions — 
came  to  its  crisis.  Symptoms  of  this  complaint  had  for  some 
time  appeared  ;  " but,"  says  he,  "I  knew  not  from  what  they 
proceeded :  a  curling  in  my  tongue,  which  was  a  spasmodic 
affection,  often  troubled  me  ;  this  I  have  named  in  other 


CLOSING   LABORS   IN   IRELAND.  101 

parts  of  my  diary,  calling  it  '  a  thorn  iu  my  flesh,'  which 
indeed  it  was  ;  but  this  I  never  mentioned  to  any  one.  All 
that  I  remember  was,  that  my  tongue  doubled  in  my  mouth ; 
my  mouth  itself  and  face  were  awfully  distorted  towards  my 
left  ear,  my  breath  stopped,  and  reason  forsook  her  throne. 
I  was  just  enabled  to  venture  my  soul  on  Jesus,  and  saw 
death  staring  me  in  the  face  ;  I  expected  nothing  else  than 
dissolution."  On  coming  to  himself  he  found  his  feet  in  a 
crock  of  hot  water,  the  room  filled  with  friends,  and  among 
them  his  father,  who  had  been  sent  for  to  see  him  expire. 
He  had  however  brought  with  him  a  physician,  who,  after 
taking  two  and  a  half  pounds  of  blood  from  the  arm  of  his 
patient,  ordered  his  head  to  be  shaved,  a  blister  to  be  ap- 
plied, and  other  medicines  to  be  used.  For  some  time  con- 
vulsions succeeded  one  another  with  alarming  violence,  and 
it  was  not  until  the  following  mornmg  that  the  balance  which 
had  seemed  to  weigh  life  and  death  against  each  other,  per- 
ceptibly preponderated  on  the  side  of  hope :  his  numbered 
days  were  not  yet  come  to  an  end,  and  in  a  short  time  con- 
valescence was  apparent.  It  would  be  injustice  to  the  kind 
family  which  nursed  him  in  their  house  at  Hop  island,  were 
I  not  to  record  his  gratitude  in  his  own  words  :  "  Sunday, 
October  17,  with  the  permission  of  my  physician,  I  rose  from 
my  bed,  but  dreadfully  weak  and  emaciated.  My  father 
and  family,  with  some  kind  friends,  spent  the  day  with  me. 
Throughout  the  whole,  the  attention  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ed- 
wards were  beyond  all  description,  nor  could  they  be  equalled 
by  any  other,  except  Mrs.  Cole.  Her  love  to  me  was  won- 
derful :  may  the  Lord  repay  them  a  thousand-fold." 

So  great  was  the  anxiety  created  by  the  report  of  his 
indisposition  among  his  Cork  friends,  that  public  prayer- 
meetings  were  held  on  his  account :  those  supplications  were 
heard,  and  the  lease  of  his  brief  life  was  again  renewed. 
For  himself,  he  says,  "  I  believe  this  affliction  will  have  the 
most  blessed  effect  upon  ine  ;   I  see  the  brevity  and  uneer- 


102  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

lainty  of  liiunan  life  ;  I  feel  nioi'e  set  upon  heaven  and  heav- 
enly things ;  my  access  to  the  throne  of  grace  is  with  greater 
boldness,  and  my  soul  is  truly  melted  before  the  Lord.  0, 
that  he  would  now  stamp  on  my  softened  heart  his  own 
most  heavenly  image." 

Many  were  the  letters  which,  after  this  affliction,  he 
received  from  different  parts  of  Ireland,  praising  God  for 
having  again  raised  up  his  servant :  this  description  may 
serve  to  characterize  generally  the  contents  of  the  whole 
bundle.  A  passage  in  one  of  the  Rev.  W.  Stewart's  letters 
contains  the  following  seasonable  advice  :  "Preach  seldom, 
that  you  may  preach  often ;  preach  short,  that  you  may 
preach  long  ;  and  let  comparatively  few  hear  you  now,  that 
many  may  hear  you  hereafter."  *  *  * 

On  Sunday,  November  7,  he  resumed  his  pulpit  exer- 
cises. After  preaching  in  tlie  evening,  he  says,  "1  felt  my 
soul  borne  above  the  world  ;  it  soared  very  high,  and  I  sat 
with  Jesus  in  heavenly  places."  And  at  the  conclusion  of 
the  following  Sabbath  he  remarks,  "For  the  greater  part  of 
this  week,  1  can  say  of  a  truth  that  my  peace  has  flowed  as 
a  river." 

Although  now  on  the  Conference  list  of  reserve,  and 
therefore  filling  his  several  appointments  as  a  preacher,  he 
still  considered  it  his  duty  to  assist  his  father  in  writing  for 
the  concern  of  which  the  latter  had  the  management ;  nev- 
ertheless, wishing  to  be  entirely  devoted  to  the  work  of  God, 
he  considered  bookkeeping  "  as  all  lost  time  "  to  him ;  "  but," 
adds  he,  with  exemplary  propriety,  "  I  remember  at  the  same 
time  that  '  honor  thy  father '  is  a  command  of  Him  whom  I 
wish  to  obey."  This  was,  however,  nearly  his  last  implica- 
tion with  "counting-house  business." 

At  this  point  in  his  history,  he  wrote  a  full  letter  to 
Mrs.  Blackstock,  his  sister  in  New  York,  narrating  the  inter- 
esting and  alarming  events  through  which  he  had  recently 
passed. 


CLOSINO   LABORiS   JN   lltELANL..  lUo 

"  Cork,  December  6,  1819. 
"My  dear  Ellen — Having  just  been  informed  of  a 
vessel  bound  for  New  York  being  about  to  sail  in  a  day  or 
two,  I  can  no  longer  deprive  myself  of  the  gratification  I 
always  feel  in  addressing  you.  'Tis  true  this  has  been  sel- 
dom of  late,  but  I  promise  you  it  shall  be  more  frequent  if 
the  Lord  spare  me  ;  and  though  my  correspondence  has  been 
in  time  past  very  scanty,  my  mind  has  often  wandered  across 
the  mighty  deep  and  brought  me  close  to  the  circle  of  your 
social  hearth.  I  am  satisfied  of  your  kind  assurance  that 
you  have  a  vacant  seat  for  me,  if  Providence  should  direct 
my  steps  to  visit  you ;  and  as  to  the  share  I  have  in  your 
affection,  I  can  measure  it  by  no  other  rule  than  that  by 
which  my  own  is  measured  out  for  you  :  time  and  space 
tend  but  to  increase  it,  not  to  diminish  it ;  and  if  I  should 
never  have  an  opportunity  of  giving  proof  of  it  upon  earth, 
I  hope  to  be  able  to  do  so  at  that  place  where  kindred  spirits 
meet  and  blend  themselves  together  in  joy  which  is  un- 
speakable. 

"You  request  me,  in  your  valuable  letter  of  June  9,  to 
give  you  a  particular  account  of  whatever  has  occurred  with 
regard  to  myself  since  I  last  wrote  you  ;  this  would  require 
a  volume,  but  as  I  know  the  interest  you  feel  in  my  welfare, 
I  will  endeavor  to  give  you  an  outline.  I  have  my  diary 
now  open  to  assist  my  memory,  and  I  will  extract  a  few 
of  the  most  striking  incidents  that  have  occurred  to  me. 

"If  my  last  was  dated  April  19,  I  must  at  that  time 
have  been  in  Dublin.  Perhaps  I  informed  you  of  my  being 
invited  thither  from  Cork  to  preach  a  charity  sermon  for  the 
public  Sunday-schools  of  that  city;  this  I  did  to  such  a  mul- 
titude as  I  could  scarcely  give  you  any  conception  of.  My 
Lord  and  Master  lent  me  his  aid,  for  if  he  had  not,  such  a 
child  as  I  am  could  not  have  addressed  the  thousands  assem- 
bled on  the  occasion.  The  lord  mayor  and  liigh  sheriff",  etc., 
came  in  state,  and  among  the  collectors  were  many  of  the 


104  REV.   JOHN    SUMMEIIFIELD. 

rank  of  the  city  ;  the  collection  exceeded  all  our  expecta- 
tions. Next  morning  a  deputation  from  the  Female  Orphan 
Asylum  waited  on  me  with  a  request  to  preach  on  behalf  of 
their  institution  as  early  as  convenient.  I  appointed  it  ibr 
the  following  month,  and  meantime  made  a  tour  through 
the, delightful  county  of  Wicklow ;  never  had  I  been  in  this 
county  since  the  time  we  all  visited  the  Dargle.  0,  what 
were  my  sensations,  thou,  God,  knowest.  Not  visiting  it  at 
this  time  on  a  pleasurable  excursion,  but  preaching  the 
word  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  So  great  was  our  number  of 
hearers,  that  I  was  obliged  to  preach  in  the  open  air ;  the 
Lord  sowed  the  seed  plentifully  in  many  hearts,  and  I  believe 
fruit  will  be  found  from  it  in  the  day  of  the  Lord  Jesus.  But 
I  can't  dwell  on  many  particulars.  The  Hon.  Mrs.  Tiglie 
of  E-osanna,  whose  son  was  member  of  Parliament  for  that 
county  till  his  death,  opened  her  house  for  me  :  it  was  a 
home  indeed.  I  spent  a  short  time  in  her  delightful  man- 
sion, and  quitted  it  with  regret,  amid  her  earnest  solicita- 
tions that  1  would  spend  the  summer  at  her  happy  retreat. 
Thank  God,  though  the  Holy  Ghost  has  declared  that  not 
many  noble  are  called,  he  has  not  said  not  any ;  I  believe 
she  will  prove  a  trophy  of  the  Redeemer's  d6ath. 

"I  returned  to  Dublin;  but  what  will  be  your  feelings 
when  I  tell  you,  that  on  entering  the  city  I  was  near  being 
killed  on  the  spot.  In  the  midst  of  life  we  are  in  death.  I 
had  rode  almost  twenty  Irish  miles  that  day,  and  my  horse 
was  a  good  deal  jaded.  Just  as  I  was  riding  down  Stephen's 
green,  something  as  I  suppose  startled  him,  but  before  I  was 
aware  I  was  dashed  olf  his  back  and  thrown  over  his  head 
a  considerable  distance,  pitching  on  my  head  on  the  pave- 
ment. When  I  came  to  myself  I  found  I  had  suflered  no 
material  injury  ;  my  hat  being  new,  and  keeping  on  my 
head,  broke  oil'  the  dreadful  percussion  in  some  degree,  -or 
my  brains  would  in  all  likelihood  have  been  dashed  out.  I 
I'elt  a  jiain  produced  in  my  left  side,  but  did  not  mind  it, 


CLOSlNii    LABORS   IN    IRELAND.  105 

hoping  it  would  Avear  away.  This  was  oii  a  Tuesday  :  the 
Sunday  following  I  ventured  to  preach  for  the  poor  orphans. 
They  were  female  orphans.  Never  did  I  preach  with  so 
much  efiect :  I  was  enabled  to  paint  their  loss  in  liveliest 
colors.  I  spoke  from  nature.  Amelia  and  Anne  were  be- 
fore ray  eyes,  and  the  remembrance  of  a  mother's  loss  oper- 
ated on  my  own  feelings  most  powerfully.  The  impression 
was  general — emotion  thrilled  through  every  heart.  I  could 
say  no  more ;  but  beckoned  for  the  little  dear  ones  to  stand 
up  and  plead  their  own  cause  ui  silent  eloquence.  I  sat 
down  and  pleaded  for  them  with  my  tears  :  I  need  not  tell 
you  the  efiect.  However,  the  exertion  I  had  made  increased 
my  pain  that  night.  The  Tuesday  following,  the  effects  of 
my  fall  and  exertion  subsequent  were  perceived.  I  began  to 
throw  a  quantity  of  congealed  blood  off  my  lungs ;  and  after 
this  was  removed,  the  fresh  blood  began  to  flow  profusely  : 
it  was  found  that  I  had  broken  a  bloodvessel  on  the  lungs. 
However,  it  ceased  towards  night,  and  I  hoped  all  would  be 
M-ell.  ^yednesday  I  set  off  in  the  mail  for  Waterford :  it 
had  been  published  for  me  to  preach  a  charity  sermon  there 
the  following  Sunday,  and  I  was  unwilling  to  disappoint ; 
but  the  motion  of  the  coach  brought  on  the  vomiting  of 
blood,  and  I  arrived  very  weak  in  that  city.  After  a  night's 
rest  it  staunched,  and  I  ventured  to  speak  the  following  even- 
ing. I  know  you  will  blame  me  ;  but  0,  my  dear  Ellen, 
could  you  but  enter  into  the  feelings  of  a  minister  of  the 
gospel,  you  would  at  least  pity,  if  not  forgive.  The  love  of 
Christ  constrains  us.  I  hardly  need  tell  you  the  efiect  which 
this  brought  on  me.  I  was  completely  exhausted  ;  took  to 
my  bed  ;  had  doctors  attending  me  ;  was  bled  ;  took  medi- 
cines; was  laid  under  a  regimen,  etc.,  and  thus  suffered  till 
Conference.  The  plans  I  had  formed  were  frustrated.  I 
had  made  appointments  to  preach,  on  behalf  of  the  foreign 
missions,  in  the  south  of  Ireland — say  Cork,  Bandon,  etc., 
but  was  unable  to  go  anywhere.     Little  did  iny  dear  father 

5* 


1(J6  REV.   JOHN    SUMMERFIELD. 

know  the  state  I  was  iu  ;  however,  God  blessed  the  means, 
and  I  recovered  a  Uttle.  I  went  to  Conference,  but  was  un- 
able to  preach  before  them  during  the  whole  of  their  sittings. 
Mr.  Edmondson  was  the  President.  You  remember  he  was 
in  Burslem  w^hen  we  lived  there :  he  was  delighted  indeed 
to  see  me,  and  invited  me  to  his  pulpit  in  Birmingham  with 
all  the  warmth  of  a  brother  and  a  friend.  During  the  Con- 
ference we  held  the  anniversary  of  the  Hibernian  Missionary 
Society.  Our  chapel  was  crowded  to  excess  ;  Mr.  Edmond- 
son was  called  to  the  chair  :  we  had  some  delightful  reports 
read  and  speeches  delivered  on  the  occasion.  After  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Marsden  of  London  had  addressed  the  chair,  I  was 
called  forward  and  a  motion  put  into  my  hand.  I  rose  and 
spoke  after  my  worthy  friend  as  well  as  I  was  able.  I  was 
followed  by  some  others.  Indeed  I  never  witnessed  so  de- 
lightful a  public  meeting. 

"My  plans  were  arranged  for  my  returning  to  England 
with  Mr.  Marsden,  but  my  health  was  yet  very  bad ,  added 
to  this,  Mr.  Mayne — brother  of  judge  Mayne — who  had  been 
appointed  for  Dublin  during  Conference,  was  obliged  to  be 
absent  for  some  time  ;  the  Conference  therefore  made  a  re- 
quest that  I  would  remain  in  Dubhn  till  his  return  :  this  I 
complied  with,  and  preached  in  that  city  for  three  months. 
The  duty  was  very  severe  for  me  in  my  weak  state  :  the 
weather  was  so  very  warm,  and  the  congregations  so  over- 
flowing, that  it  was  at  the  hazard  of  my  life.  However, 
God  was  with  me,  and  he  suffered  not  a  hair  of  my  head  to 
perish.  Blessed  be  his  name.  Mr.  Mayne  arrived  near  the 
middle  of  September,  and  I  thought  now  to  have  had  rest ; 
but  the  work  of  God  called  me  to  Parsonstow^n,  Roscrea, 
etc.,  for  a  few  days  ;  and  when  God  calls,  I  dare  not  dis- 
obey. While  in  these  parts  I  remained  only  seven  days,  I 
preached  eleven  times  and  travelled  one  hundred  and  sixty 
miles  ;  but  it  was  indispensable.  The  Earl  of  Rosse,  whose 
residence  is  Parsonstown,  had  been  very  kind  during  my  last 


CLOSING-   LABORS   IN   IRELAND.  107 

visit  there,  and  gave  us  a  most  eligible  plot  of  ground  for  a 
new  place  of  worship,  the  former  one  being  quite  too  small. 
He  paid  us  marked  distinction  during  this  my  second  visit, 
and  at  his  request  I  preached  in  the  court-house  for  the 
accommodation  of  his  family  and  those  of  the  surrounding 
nobility  and  gentry.  I  believe  the  word  of  truth  cut  its  own 
way.  I  trust  those  noble  ones  too  will  be  among  the  num- 
ber of  \\vefeiv  rich  who  are  called  to  eternal  life. 

"I  returned  to  Dubhn,  and  was  about  setting  ofi"  ou  a 
northern  tour  through  this  country  ;  but  a  letter  arrived 
from  Cork,  from  my  dear  father,  calling  me  to  come  to  him 
immediately.  He  had  heard  of  my  exertions  and  feared  for 
the  event.  I  came  to  Cork  :  it  was  well  I  did.  Perhaps  if 
I  had  not  come  here,  I  might  have  been  in  my  grave.  The 
exertions  I  went  through  in  Dublin,  Parsonstown,  etc.,  with 
the  fatigues  of  excessive  travelling,  brought  on  a  crisis  in 
my  constitution  :  an  inward  obstruction  was  produced,  and 
when  returning  to  Cork  in  Mr.  Edwards'  carriage,  at  whose 
hospitable  mansion  in  Hop  island  I  had  been  on  a  visit  ever 
since  my  arrival  in  these  parts,  violent  spasms  came  on ; 
reason  left  me,  and  when  I  came  to  mysell"  I  found  my  feet 
in  a  vessel  of  hot  water,  myself  stripped,  a  physician  by  my 
side  bleeding  me  to  excess,  and  a  man  shaving  my  head 
preparatory  to  the  applying  a  blister. 

"But  the  interval  was  short  ;  the  spasms  returned  and 
succeeded  each  other  all  the  day  and  night,  during  which  I 
was  delirious.  My  beloved  father  was  sent  for  by  express. 
He  came,  as  he  thought,  to  see  me  die.  Blessed  be  the  God 
and  Father  of  all  my  mercies,  I  felt  no  fear.  I  believe 
that  if  I  had  died  it  would  be  to  be  for  ever  with  the  Lord. 
My  life  was  for  a  long  time  despaired  of.  For  a  month 
I  remained  at  Hop  island,  and  now  I  am  fast  recovering, 
and  am  likely  to  be  better  than  ever.  The  physician 
thinks  that  my  illness  will  renovate  my  constitution.  How- 
ever, my  dear  Ellen,  do  not  be  alarmed  tor  me,  I  will  take 


108  REV.  JOHN    SUMALERFIELD. 

more  care  lor  the  time  to  come  :    experience  is  the  best  of 
teachers. 

"I  have  again  commenced  to  preach.  Last  night  we 
had  an  immense  congregation,  while  I  deUvered  all  the 
words  of  this  life.  The  Sunday  preceding,  I  was  in  Ban- 
don,  where  I  was  kindly  received  and  entertained  by  the 
governor  of  the  town.  I  hope  to  be  able  to  continue  preach- 
ing, but  am  limited  to  once  a  iceck  ;  this  will  not  distress 
me. 

"I  shall  now  remain  with  my  father  till  after  my  next 
birthday,  31st  January,  and  then  go  to  England.  Bristol, 
London,  and  Liverpool  will  be  my  halting-places,  and  I  pur- 
pose returning  to  Conference  with  the  Rev.  Joseph  Benson. 
I  cannot  yet  say  where  will  be  my  final  destination  :  when 
I  write  again  I  can  inform  you.  My  father  has  written 
you,  so  that  I  need  say  nothing  on  the  affairs  of  the  family: 
I  suppose  he  has  done  this.  And  now,  my  dear  Ellen,  be- 
lieve me  to  be,  with  increasing  affection  for  you  and  James, 
"  Your  loving  brother, 

"JOHN." 

Throughout  the  whole  of  December,  and  even  during 
the  following  month,  the  state  of  liis  mind  within  appears 
to  have  resembled  in  some  measure  the  aspect  of  nature 
around  him:  sometimes  gloomy  and  lowering,  the  clouds 
hung  about  his  soul  and  intercepted  his  comforts,  compelling 
him  to  exclaim,  "Dark,  dark,  dark;"  at  other  times  his 
mental  atmosphere  was  bright  and  clear,  and  the  Sun  of 
righteousness  shone  out  with  full  lustre.  It  miglit  appear 
indeed  sometimes  a  little  difficult  with  unscriptural  readers, 
to  reconcile  the  heavenly  manifestations  of  the  love  of  God 
in  Christ  Jesus,  which  he  generally  enjoyed,  with  some  of 
his  dark  and  terrible  conflicts  and  fits  of  despondency.  As 
before  observed,  however,  there  was  nothing  in  his  state, 
however  singular  to  himself,  beyond  what  thousands  have 
experienced  and  must  experience,  who  look  much  and  closely 


CLOSINlt   labors  in   IRELAND.  109 

at  the  fluctuations  of  feeling  in  hearts  not  made  perfect  in 
love.  A  debilitated  body,  united  with  a  spirit  of  extraordi- 
nary intensity,  exposed  him  in  a  peculiar  manner  to  those 
besetments  which  are  not  uncommon  with  men  of  a  similar 
temperament.  He  was  often  very  unnecessarily  distressed 
by  dreams,  which,  however  regarded  by  himself,  were  doubt- 
less the  phantasmagoria  of  a  fevered  brain.  Another  evi- 
dent cause  of  his  painful  depressions  was  the  absence  of 
spiritual  manifestations — not  of  the  nature,  but  in  the  meas- 
ure which  his  soul  desired ;  ibr  at  this  period  the  prevalent 
feelings  of  his  mind  and  actions  of  his  life  were  not  of  tho 
nature  of  the  "old  man,"  which  he  had  long  put  off',  with 
his  lusts,  but  of  the  "new  man,"  which  he  had  put  on,  and 
whose  -works  were  righteousness  and  true  holiness. 

On  Sunday,  the  19th  of  December,  Mr.  Summerfield 
preached,  on  behalf  of  the  Methodist  missions,  at  Tralee  ;  on 
Tuesday  he  spoke  at  great  length  at  the  half-yearly  meeting 
of  the  Bible  Society,  and  on  the  following  evening  at  the 
missionary  anniversary.  His  addresses  on  both  these  occa- 
sions were  well  received,  and  judging  from  the  sketches 
extant  deservedly  so. 

It  may  with  propriety  be  mentioned  here,  that  about  this 
period  he  embraced  several  opportunities  of  enlarging  his 
stock  of  ideas  by  attending  lectures  on  natural,  intellectual, 
and  moral  philoso])liy. 

On  the  lirst  Sunday  morning  in  tlie  year  1820,  he  preach- 
ed in  Cork  to  a  large  assembly.  "  I  was  peculiarly  affected," 
says  he,  "  under  the  first  prayer ;  the  Lord  gave  to  my  eyes 
refreshing  tears,  and  I  could  only  sob  my  petition  to  his 
throne.  He  caused  all  his  goodness  to  pass  before  me,  and 
revealed  to  me  his  name.  I  felt  him  passing  by.  He  put 
his  hand  on  me,  and  then  revealed  his  glory  ;  he  covered 
me  ;  I  was  lost  in  the  ocean  of  his  goodness."  And  yet  the 
very  next  day  he  laments  that  he  "  felt  no  gracious  impres- 
sion,"  at   the    covenant-meeting.     How   little    were   these 


110  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

vacillations  of  rapture  and  agony  to  be  taken  as  proofs  that 
he  was  in  the  favor  of  God,  or  rather,  that  he  was  otherwise. 
Indeed,  in  such  a  case,  how  can  a  person  be  sure  that  these 
are  of  God  and  those  of  Satan,  or  of  his  own  mind,  or  rather 
of  his  own  body  ?  How  wise,  and  yet  at  the  same  time 
how  simple,  is  the  test  of  the  divine  acceptance  laid  down 
by  Mr.  Wesley,  in  the  old  syllogism,  "  He  that  now  loves 
God,  that  delights  and  rejoices  in  him  with  a  humble  joy, 
a  holy  delight,  and  an  obedient  love,  is  a  child  of  God.  But 
I  thus  love,  delight,  and  rejoice  in  God ;  therefore,  I  am  a 
child  of  God." 

We  may  unhesitatingly  apply  to  Mr.  Summerfield's  case 
the  above  rule  of  sound  judgment,  which  he  appears  not  to 
have  applied  to  himself,  though  he  could  apply  it  to  the 
case  of  others.  For  instance,  after  saying  of  himself,  "  I 
am  miserable,  miserable,  miserable,"  he  goes  on  to  state 
how  he  continued  to  preach,  and  how  God  blessed  the  word 
to  the  exinrimental  salvation  of  the  souls  of  others,  while 
he  himself  either  had  not,  or  imagined  that  he  had  not  such 
experience  ;  and  if  experience  of  this  kind  is  to  be  the  only 
test  of  reality,  and  he  had  it  not,  does  it  not  follow  that  he 
was  under  the  curse  of  God  as  an  unpardoned  sinner,  and 
must  have  gone  from  preaching  to  perdition  had  he  died  at 
the  time  ?  Summerficld  was  undoubtedly  in  a  state  of  jus- 
tification before  God,  and  moreover,  was  evidently  seeking 
to  be  sanctified  wholly  :  there  is  no  middle  state  between 
guilt  and  pardon,  in  which  a  man  may  thus  serve  and  fear 
and  love  God,  as  he  appears  really  to  have  done,  and  have 
visitations  even  of  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory,  as  he 
says  that  he  had,  and  as  we  must  believe,  and  yet  all  this 
time  be  under  condemnation,  and  every  moment  in  danger 
of  hell-fire  :  such  hypotheses  were  equally  absurd  and  un- 
scriptural. 

He  appears  on  the  whole  to  have  sought  his  religious 
exemplar  in   the  celebrated  Fletcher,  and  to  the  spiritual 


CLOSING    LABORS    IxN    IRELAND.  Ill 

attainments  of  that  eminently  holy  man  his  soul  perpetually 
aspired.  "Oh,  what  a  saint!  I  would,  but  scarcely  dare 
aspire  to  his  attainments  ;  and  yet  Jesus  kindly  whispers  to 
my  inward  ear,  that  he  has  the  residue  of  the  Spirit.  Oh, 
shed  it  abroad.  Come,  Lord,  from  above  I"  Such  is  Sum- 
merfield's  ejaculation  on  reading  the  life  of  his  pious  prede- 
cessor;  in  allusion  to  whom  he  says,  in  another  place,  "I 
never  met  with  any  experience  so  much  a  counterpart  of 
my  own  :  I  mean  his  experience  just  at  the  eve  of  his  step- 
ping into  gospel  liberty.  I  took  courage,  I  kneeled  down, 
I  cried  to  God.  He  drew  near,  I  set  the  seal  of  my  faith 
to  his  promises  of  pardon  through  the  death  of  his  Son ;  I 
now  wait  the  seal  of  his  Spirit  to  be  applied  to  my  heart. 
Lord,  I  must,  I  must  believe,  and  now." 

The  31st  of  January,  as  the  reader  is  already  aware, 
was  the  anniversary  of  Mr.  Summerfield's  birthday ;  on  a 
single  page  under  that  date,  in  the  present  year,  there  occur 
in  the  diary  two  entries  of  so  conflicting  a  character,  that 
they  can  only  be  reconciled  by  the  extreme  probability  that 
a  slight  mistake  may  have  occurred  in  dividing  the  matter 
under  the  date  :  even  this  supposition  leaves  difierent  entries 
singularly  contemporaneous.  After  mentioning  some  con- 
versions which,  thd  day  before,  had  taken  place  under  his 
preaching,  he  adds,  "  But  what  shall  I  say  of  myself? 
Despair  begins  to  lay  hold  on  me,  and  for  some  days  I  have 
left  oS'  [private]  prayer.  My  hell  increases,  and  yet  some- 
times I  have  a  beam  of  hope  ;  in  the  instances  I  have  men- 
tioned above,  it  seems  as  if  the  Lord  mingled  encouragement 
amid  my  despondencies  ;  and  he  seems  unwilling  to  give  me 
up.  Oh,  that  I  knew  where  I  might  find  him."  This  evi- 
dently refers  to  the  30th,  for  in  the  next  paragraph  he 
writes,  "  This  is  my  birthday.  So  twenty-two  years  of  my 
race  are  accomplished.  I  have  felt  a  good  deal  of  the  divine 
presence  with  me  to-day,  and  I  have  solemnly  offered  myself 
to  Him  again."     After  devoting  himself  anew  to  God,  he 


112  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

adds,  "  1  feel  enlivened  ;  this  next  year  of  my  life  will  be 
the  auspicious  year,  in  which  I  shall  be  introduced  into  the 
kingdom  of  grace  or  of  glory  ;  whichever  it  may  prove,  '  thy 
will  be  done.'  Amen.  J.  Summerfield."  Still,  in  the  re- 
view of  his  state,  he  writes  hitler  things  against  himself. 
It  may  justly  be  asked.  If  he  was  not  already  in  the  king- 
dom of  grace,  where  was  he  ?  It  would  be  blasphemy  to 
say  that  he  was  in  the  kingdom  of  darkness,  and  under  the 
power  of  Satan.  What  was  wanting  to  him  ?  Evidently 
nothing  but  some  more  sensible  manifestation  that  he  icm 
in  the  kingdom  of  grace.  To  multitudes,  undoubtedly,  such 
manifestation  is  given,  and  is  given  according  to  their  faith  ; 
but  there  must  be  other  evidences,  or  a  person  may  avdully 
.deceive  himself,  as  well  as  harass  his  spirit  to  despair,  if  he 
has  it  not  in  the  degree  which  he  himself  expects  and  pre- 
scribes, .or  in  which  others  have  it.  It  is  difficult  to  avoid* 
•  yielding  to  a  conviction,  on  the  whole,  that  much  of  Mr. 
Summerfield's  misery  arose  from  bodily  disease,  some  prob- 
ably from  Satanic  temptations,  and  more  than  either,  and 
overruling  both  the  former  for  his  good  eventually,  from  the 
strivmg  of  God's  Holy  Spirit  Avith  his  spirit,  to  bring  him, 
by  a  necessarily  severe  discipline,  to  an  entire  surrender  of 
himself  to  the  Lord ;  for,  followed  and  admired  and  flat- 
tered no  doubt  as  he  was,  young,  inexperienced,  and  san- 
guine, there  was  continual  peril  of  his  being  a  castaway 
after  preaching  to  others,  because  there  was  continual  temp- 
tation to  preach  himself  as  well  as  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord, 
and  to  glory  in  his  talents  as  well  as  in  the  cross. 

So  deeply  and  steadily  flowed  the  rivers  of  peace  and 
blessedness  from  the  throne  of  God  into  his  soul,  at  the  be- 
ginning of  February,  that  he  writes,  "  If  all  my  days  were 
spent  in  as  close  a  communion  with  God  as  these  were, 
methinks  the  change  which  death  would  introduce  would 
scarcely  be  felt.  I  find  I  can  trust  my  Father  for  all  things  ; 
I  can  cast  my  soul  on  his  promise,  made  through  the  blood 


CLOSING   LABORS   IN    IRELAND.  113 

of  Jesus,  even  though  the  seal  of  the  Spirit  should  seem  long 
delayed.  1  know  and  sensibly  feel  that  I  am  not  worthy  to 
be  a  son  of  God ;  and  if  he  sees  fit,  for  wise  purposes,  to 
retain  me  so  long  in  the  character  of  a  servant,  his  will  be 
done.  I  have  prayed  with  the  prodigal,  '  make  me  as  one 
of  thy  hired  servants :'  this  he  has  exceeded  ;  he  has  made 
me  a  domestic.  He  ivill  then  increase  in  me  all  the  good 
pleasure  of  his  will.  He  icill  yet  set  me  on  high,  even 
among  the  princes  of  his  people."  Here  a  blessed  "  trust 
and  confidence"  in  the  faithfulness  of  God  takes  place  of 
those  "  hard  sayings,"  in  which  he  had  so  frequently  of  late 
indulged  against  himself.  Indeed,  it  is  plain  that  he  was 
more  in  his  right  mind,  more  calm,  collected,  and  resigned 
to  the  will  of  God,  and  less  impatient,  though  not  less  ear- 
nestly longing  for  full  redemption  ;  for  his  satisfactory  assur- 
ance of  which,  nothing  seems  to  have  been  wanting  but 
"the  seal  of  the  Spirit."  The  deed  of  his  adoption  was  no 
doubt  ratified  in  heaven ;  though  the  roll,  such  as  Bunyan's 
pilgrim  received  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and  Avhich  others 
have  received  there,  was  not  yet  given  to  Summerfield. 

No  occasion  has  heretofore  occurred  requiring  the  ex- 
pression of  any  sentiment  in  connection  with  Mr.  Summer- 
field's  feelings  as  a  British  subject,  nor  would  the  opportunity 
of  making  any  allusion  at  all  to  this  matter  have  been  re- 
garded in  these  pages,  but  for  the  occurrence  of  a  passage 
in  the  diary  of  this  devoted  individual,  which  it  would  be 
the  most  manifest  injustice  to  his  memory  to  omit.  *  *  * 
George  III.  departed  this  life  on  the  31st  of  January,  1820. 
On  the  15th  of  February  the  pious  diarist  writes,  "  I  cannot 
but  remark  on  the  political  state  of  the  times  in  which  I 
live ;  the  prospect  for  several  earthly  kings  is  very  gloomy, 
and  yet  I  fear  it  will  not  drive  them  to  seek  after  a  kingdom 
in  the  heavens,  or  a  crown  of  glory  that  fadoth  not  away. 
And  so  the  British  throne  hath  changed  its  monarch.  Georgo 
the  Third  is  counted  among  the  leaves  of  autumn.   My  heart 


114  REV.   JOHN  SUMMEE.F1ELD. 

even  yet  says,  '  God  bless  him  ;'  I  trust  to  meet  him  in  my 
Father's  house,  sheltered  from  every  piercing  wind  of  keen 
adversity.  His  son  was  proclaimed  king  in  London  on  my 
birthday. 

"  The  duke  of  Kent  has  also  put  off  the  coronet ;  he  died 
a  few  days  before  his  father,  and  was  buried  on  the  Satur- 
day preceding.  When  death  speaks  from  palaces,  surely  sub- 
jects should  take  the  warning.  And  is  England  alone  thus 
visited  ?  No  :  the  heir  of  the  French  throne  has  been  assas- 
sinated by  another  Ravaillac.  Never  did  a  darker  cloud 
impend  over  any  nation,  than  this  and  France  at  this  mo- 
ment :  may  I  watch  the  providence  of  God.  Some  Pella 
will  be  provided  for  them  that  love  him.  My  father  urges 
me  to  go  to  America ;  he  thinks  it  would  greatly  improve 
my  health  :  if  I  thought  it  was  the  will  of  God  I  would  not 
hesitate,  but  I  have  no  light  on  this  subject." 

The  destruction  which  Summerfield,  as  well  as  some 
other  good  men  anticipated,  did  not  come  upon  our  Jerusa- 
lem, and  therefore  the  saints  were  not  "scattered  abroad" 
by  persecution,  though  many  were  "  thrust  out  "  by  a  better 
spirit  into  the  wilderness  of  this  world  ;  and  in  the  sequel 
his  own  way  was  opened  to  that  mighty  field  of  labor  which 
God  had  prepared  for  liis  servants  in  the  new  world.  There 
he  was,  in  due  time,  hailed  and  heard  in  his  "  father  lan- 
guage," as  a  messenger  of  good  tidings  to  those  western 
churches,  who  acknowledge  with  their  brethren  all  over  the 
world,  one  Spirit,  one  faith,  one  baptism. 

From  the  month  of  February  until  towards  the  middle 
of  May  his  labors  were  divided  between  Cork,  Mallow, 
Cappaquin,  Youghall,  Limerick,  and  Fermoy.  To  his  exer- 
tions must  be  mainly  attributed  the  acquisition  of  the  site 
of  the  chapel  at  the  latter  place,  as  the  interviews  and 
arrangements  with  Mr.  Walker  the  landlord  devolved  en- 
tirely upon  Mr.  Summerfield,  who  had  the  satisfaction  not 
merely  to  win  the  esteem  of  the  gentleman  with  whom,  on 


CLOSING   LABORS   IN    IRELAND.  115 

the  part  of  the  Methodists,  he  negotiated,  but  Hkewise  to 
see  the  leases  perfected,  signed,  sealed,  and  delivered  ibr  a 
charming  plot  of  ground  fifty  feet  by  forty,  at  a  peppercorn 
fine  and  rent  for  ever. 

In  consequence  of  the  intensely  painful  exercises  of  his 
mind,  he  now  anxiously  longed  to  visit  the  land  of  his  nativ- 
ity, "  not  to  preach,  but  to  be  instructed  in  the  way  of  sal- 
vation." "  I  am,"  says  he,  "  like  Apollos  ;  I  want  to  know 
the  way  of  the  Lord  more  perfectly."  "  I  long,"  says  he  in 
another  place,  "to  be  in  England,  where,  unknown,  I  may 
without  reserve  communicate  my  almost  indescribable  state 
to  some  one  to  whom  my  gracious  Lord  may  direct.  Oh, 
may  he  open  my  way  if  it  please  him."  This  prayer  was 
heard  and  answered. 


116  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 


CHAPTER   X. 

ARRIVES  IN  ENGLAND  AND  PREACHES  AT  BRISTOL-EXETER- 
ATTENDS  CONFERENCE  AT  LIVERPOOL— ENTERTAINS  THOUGHTS 
OF  GOING  TO  AMERICA— EMBARKS  FOR  NEW  YORK. 

On  the  12th  of  May,  1820,  Mr.  Summerfield  bade  adieu 
to  Ireland  and  expected  presently  to  set  his  foot  on  the 
English  shore ;  the  vessel,  however,  in  which  he  sailed,  and 
which  was  bound  for  Bristol,  being  detained  by  adverse 
winds  at  Markstown,  he  embraced  the  opportunity  of  once 
more  visiting  Cork  and  hearing  Mr.  Wood  preach.  On  the 
15th  he  reembarked  at  Cross-Haven,  to  Avhich  place  he  was 
accompanied  by  his  lather,  who  "loaded  him  with  bless- 
ings." "  Such  a  father  I  he  is  only  surpassed  by  another,  and 
that  is  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

This  detention  in  the  channel  aflbrded  him  leisure  to 
reflect  upon  the  time  he  had  passed  in  Ireland,  and  the  ob- 
jects of  his  visit  to  England.  In  the  preceding  eighteen 
month?,  he  had  not  only  preached  four  hundred  sermons, 
but  had  been  blessed  with  good  ministerial  success ;  he  and 
his  congregations  had  often  experienced  times  of  refreshing 
from  the  presence  of  the  Lord.  In  reference  to  an  unhappy 
division  in  the  church  he  observes,  "  The  Methodist  society 
was  rent  in  twain  from  the  top  to  the  bottom  ;  and,  forced  out 
as  I  was  in  these  times,  it  was  my  object  to  assist  in  sewing 
up  the  rents  which  had  been  made.  To  the  glory  of  God 
I  would  record  it,  that  I  believe  my  labor  was  not  altogether 
in  vain  in  the  Lord."  "VYith  sincere  pleasure  may  be  added 
to  this  record  the  following  testimony  of  a  reverend  gentle- 
man who  had  many  opportunities  of  judging  on  the  sub- 
ject :  "He  preached  practical  Christianity  in  most  lively 
colors  ;  and  his  'sweet  persua.sive  tongue'  so  recommended 
'  brotherly  kindness  and  charity,'  entreating  his  brethren 
even  weeping  to  '  fall  not  out  by  the  way,'  that  all  appeared 


HIS  VISIT  TO  ENGLAND.  117 

to  be  carried  away  by  his  eloquence  to  spiritual  union  and 
heavenly  peace ;  and  he  was  made  a  general  blessing  at 
that  time  of  strife  and  division  in  the  church."  *  *  * 

On  the  IGth  the  wind  was  favorable;  the  vessel  stood 
out  fairly  for  her  destination,  and  as  the  green  hills  of  the 
land  of  his  spiritual  nativity  receded  from  his  sight,  the 
anxious  voyager  ejaculated  in  broken  accents  of  affection, 
"  Farewell,  my  sweetest  friends.  Farewell,  Ireland  ;  thou 
concealest  all  that  I  love  dear  on  earth,  yet  I  give  you  all 
up.  The  cross — but  then  the  crown  I  I  leave  a  land  of 
friends,  I  fly  to  a  land  of  strangers.  Cease,  fond  nature, 
cease  thy  strife;  it  is  for  Jesus.  Farewell.  Adieu."  On 
the  19th  he  landed  at  Bristol. 

It  may  here  be  remarked  that  the  object  of  his  voyage 
to  England  M'as  threefold  :  first,  to  attend  to  some  business 
for  his  father  ;  second,  the  prospect  of  benefiting  his  consti- 
tution ;  and  third,  a  resolution  to  converse  unreservedly  with 
some  one  on  his  spiritual  state,  and  therefore  to  remain 
for  some  time  unknown  to  the  brethren.  Providence  had 
otherwise  ordered  concerning  him. 

Immediately  on  his  arrival  at  Bristol,  as  he  was  passing 
along  one  of  the  streets  of  the  city  in  the  loose  blue  coat 
which  he  had  worn  abroad,  and  his  head  so  reeling  from  the 
motion  of  the  vessel  that  he  had  occasionally  to  cling  to  the 
palisades  to  prevent  himself  frona  falling  on  the  pavement, 
he  saw  a  number  of  children  playing  at  marbles  ;  of  these 
he  inquired  the  way  to  the  Methodist  chapel.  Thither  he 
repaired,  and  found  that  "  a  stranger"  was  expected  to  preach 
that  evening.  Having  taken  his  seat  in  a  pew,  he  sat  "un- 
knowing and  imknown  "  with  the  rest  of  the  congregation. 
When  they  had  waited  nearly  half  an  hour  beyond  the  time 
appointed,  no  preacher  making  his  appearance  nor  any  per- 
son attempting  even  to  give  out  a  hymn,  the  people  mean- 
time beginning  to  go  away,  it  was  strongly  impressed  upon 
Mr.   Summerfield's    mind    that   he   must   him.self  be    "the 


118  REV.   JOHN   STJMMERFTELD. 

stranger"  thus  providentially  appointed.  After  reasoning  a 
short  time  with  flesh  and  blood,  he  at  length  broke  the  snare, 
and  inwardly  replied  to  what  he  considered  a  call  from  God, 
"  Lord,  here  am  I  ;  not  my  will,  but  thine,  be  done."  He 
then  ascended  the  pulpit,  and  under  a  sweet  sense  of  the 
divine  presence  gave  out  the  hymn  beginning,  "  God  moves 
in  a  mysterious  way."  He  felt  a  little  trepidation  at  first, 
but  in  a  few  minutes  this  text  came  to  his  mind  :  "  Fear 
not,  for  I  am  with  thee  ;  be  not  dismayed,  for  I  am  thy  God. 
I  will  strengthen  thee ;  yea,  I  will  help  thee  ;  yea,  I  will 
uphold  thee  with  the  right  hand  of  my  righteousness."  He 
preached  with  his  iisual  freedom  and  unction  ;  and  thus 
singularly  commenced  his  ministry  in  England. 

A  few  words  will  explain  the  circumstances  which  thus 
opened  Mr.  Summerfield's  way  to  a  British  pulpit,  so  con- 
trary to  his  expectation  and  even  to  his  wishes  :  the  district 
meeting,  which  had  that  week  been  held  in  Bristol,  had 
terminated  only  the  day  before,  and  this  in  connection  with 
the  anniversary  of  the  local  Methodist  missionary  society, 
had  brought  a  considerable  number  of  preachers  to  the  spot ; 
publication  had  therefore  been  made  for  "  a  stranger"  on  the 
evening  in  question  ;  but  no  name  was  mentioned,  as  it  was 
hardly  to  be  doubted  but  that  when  from  forty  to  fifty 
preachers  were  present  in  the  city,  some  stranger  might 
reasonably  be  expected.  No  other  stranger  however,  nor 
any  other  preacher  could  be  found,  though  many  of  the 
friends  actually  went  from  the  chapel  to  seek  one. 

Having,  in  consequence  of  the  above  incident  and  con- 
trary to  his  intentions  for  the  present,  been  induced  to  show 
the  letters  of  introduction  with  which  he  had  been  furnished 
by  Mr.  Wood  at  Cork,  he  was  received  with  much  afl^ection 
by  many  of  the  English  brethren  then  in  Bristol.  While  in 
that  city,  he  was  kindly  entertained  by  John  Hall  and  Ed- 
ward Jones,  Esqrs.  Mr.  Hall  carried  him  in  a  chaise  to 
Bath,  where  he  met  with  and  was  aflectionately  received  by 


HIS   VISIT   TO    ENGLAND.  119 

that  truly  apostolic  man — now  in  glory — the  Rev.  Walter 
Griffiths. 

On  the  22(1  he  set  ofT  to  Exeter,  on  the  business  with 
which  his  father  had  charged  him  in  England  :  this  negoti- 
ation, however,  terminated  inauspiciously.  "  So,"  says»he, 
"  my  dear  father  is  again  disappointed  ;  he  thought  that  the 
providence  of  God  was  removing  him  to  England,  but  all  is 
closed.  I  wrote  to  him  the  day  following,  to  communicate 
the  unpleasant  result ;  and  endeavored  to  encourage  him  to 
trust  in  the  Lord.  Indeed,  my  dear  father  has  no  continu- 
ing city  here.  God  in  his  mercy  removes  him  from  place 
to  place,  and  shows  him  that  this  is  not  his  home  ;  but  he 
has  given  him  a  title  through  grace  to  a  kingdom — a  king- 
dom which  cannot  he  moved!'' 

His  visit  to  Exeter  at  this  juncture  was,  however,  inter- 
esting to  himself  as  a  Methodist  preacher :  the  district 
meeting  was  assembled,  and  the  anniversary  of  the  mission- 
ary society  of  the  district  was  held  ;  and  as  Mr.  Summer- 
field  was  just  come  from  Ireland,  he  was  not  only  allowed 
but  required  to  take  a  prominent  part.  Some  of  the  preach- 
ers were  very  shy  on  this  occasion ;  and  one  of  them  had 
even  the  indiscretion  to  say  to  his  colleagues,  "  Be  cautious 
how  you  mix  with  the  Irish  brethren."  This  conduct  de- 
terring the  resident  preachers,  he  was  not  invited  to  occupy 
their  pulpits,  until  at  the  kind  solicitation  of  Mr.  Kilpin, 
the  Baptist  minister,  he  had  preached  for  him  in  his  meet- 
ing-house. He  was  then,  on  the  following  Sunday,  asked  to 
preach  in  Exeter  ;  not  however  by  the  superintondout,  but 
by  Mr.  Overton  the  junior  preacher.  He  had  promised  to 
be  in  Bristol  that  day  ;  but  lest  his  motives  in  leaving  a  place 
where  he  had  not  been  well  treated  might  be  misconstrued, 
he  apologized  to  his  Bristol  friends  and  preached  on  the 
Sabbath  at  Exeter  with  great  power  and  acceptance. 

Sunday,  June  3d,  he  preached  again  at  Bristol,  Mr. 
Roberts  veadinjr  the  church  service  before  sermon  :  this  was 


120  REV.  JOHN   SITMMERFIELD. 

quite  new  to  him,  as  was  also  the  appearance  of  the  chapel, 
which  is  adorned  with  marble  monuments  affixed  to  various 
parts  of  the  interior.  On  the  following  Sunday  he  preached 
twice  in  St.  Philip's  chapel,  and  between  these  services 
assisted  Mr.  Waddy  to  administer  the  sacrament.  This  also 
was  new  to  him  ;  it  was  moreover  the  first  time  that  he  had 
communicated  in  a  Methodist  chapel :  so,  after  preaching  in 
King-street  chapel,  Bath,  he  observes,  "  As  I  am  always 
meeting  wdth  something  new  in  England,  I  may  observe 
that  this  was  the  first  chapel  in  which  I  had  met  with  an 
organ ;  the  hymns  were  played  on  it  in  a  delightful  man- 
ner, and  produced  good  efiect."  .While  in  Bristol,  he  had  a 
pleasant  interview  with  Mr.  Thomas  Exley,  the  ingenious 
mathematician  ;  he  likewise  saw  several  Moravian  friends, 
and  ahiong  them  two  of  his  Fairfield  preceptors.  Rev.  Messrs. 
Ramftler  and  Mallalieu. 

Having  soon  after  his  arrival  in  England  written  to  the 
Rev.  Thomas  Thompson,  his  old  friend,  companion,  and  fel- 
low-laborer,* then  statione'd  at  Framlingham  in  SufTolk,  he 
received  a  letter  in  return,  from  which  it  may  be  interesting 
to  make  the  following  extract :  "  Your  dear  father — whom, 
as  long  as  recollection  erldures  and  a  spark  of  gratitude  exists 
in  my  heart,  I  shall  love  and  respect — has  now  got  what 
from  your  childhood  he  most  anxiously  desired,  and  what  / 
knoiv  he  has  prayed  for  hundreds  of  times.  Yes,  my  dear 
John,  your  dear  father  Icnows  what  it  is  to  wrestle  wdth  God, 
and  he  knows  what  it  is  to  prevail.  I  have  for  the  last 
eleven  years,  in  which  I  have  been  an  itinerant  preacher, 
seen  numbers  of  men  who  possessed  deep  piety ;  but  one 
who  had  greater  influence  with  heaven,  more  power  with 
(xod,  than  your  father,  I  have  not  seen." 

It  does  not  appear  that  Mr.  Summerfield  kept  any  jour- 

*  Mr.  Thompson  was  an  apprentice  to  Mr.  Summerfield's  father 
as  iron-foundercr  and  engineer,  and  for  several  years  was  an  inmate  of 
the  familv- 


HIS   VISIT   TO   ENGLAND.  121 

nal  of  his  feelings  or  his  proceedings,  from  the  period  of  liis 
leaving  England  lor  Ireland,*  nor  in  fact  until  his  arrival 
in  America.  Indeed,  the  very  latest  entry  in  the  foregoing 
country  occurs  under  June  28  :  when  review^ing  God's  deal- 
ings with  him,  he  remarks,  "And  here  I  have  been  abun- 
dantly blessed  ;  my  heart  has  been  sweetly  drawn  out  after 
the  ftdness  of  the  blessings  of  the  gospel  of  Christ ;  and  I 
believe  I  can  say,  I  feel  more  truly  alive  to  God,  and  have 
nearer  access  to  him  than  for  some  time  past."  He  adds, 
"Of  the  kindness  of  Mr.  HaU's  family  of  Bristol,  I  cannot 
sjieak  in  any  just  terms  ;  God  bless  them." 

While  at  the  conference  held  in  Liverpool,  he  became 
acquainted  with  the  Rev.  John  Emory,  the  representative  of 
the  American  conference.  The  interviews  which  Mr.  Sum- 
merfield  enjoyed  with  so  respectable  and  influential  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Methodist  church  in  America,  though  they  did 
not  originate,  may  reasonably  enough  be  supposed  to  have 
thrown  a  halo  of  new  interest  around  that  project  of  emi- 
gration which  Providence  seems  at  this  period  to  have  forced 
upon  the  attention  and  choice  of  his  father  and  the  family. 
How  long,  and  on  wliat  accounts  chiefly  thoughts  of  Amer- 
ica had  occupied  tlie  minds  of  Mr.  Summerfield  and  his 
father,  may  be  gathered  from  the  following  extracts  i'rom 
letters  written  by  him  to  his  eldest  sister  and  her  husband, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Blackstock  of  New  York,  in  which  city,  as 
already  stated,  they  had  for  some  time  resided  : 

*  Mr.  Summerfield  returned  from  England  to  Cork  in  August, 
1820,  little  improved  in  health.  His  time  was  variously  employed  as 
before,  namely,  in  writing  for  the  establishment  of  which  his  father 
was  manager,  and  occupying  the  pulpits  in  the  dilferent  chapels  in 
Cork  and  its  vicinity,  until  the  19th  of  October,  when  he  was  again 
most  alarmingly  attacked  with  the  same  disorder  which  brought  him 
to  the  verge  of  the  grave  at  Hop  island — the  very  same  day  of  the 
previous  year.  In  a  few  weeks,  he  was  so  far  convalescent  that  his 
physicians  advised  a  sea-voyage,  which  was  promptly  acceded  to  by 
his  father,  who  had  long  contemplated  the  removal  of  the  family  to 
America.  J-  b, 

SummerfieM.  6 


122  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

"Temporal  aflairs  have  not  answered  our  expectations. 
I  believe  it  was  not  the  will  ol"  God  that  I  should  be  buried 
in  a  secular  calling.  I  was  given  to  the  Lord  from  my 
mother's  womb  ;  and  because  I  refused  the  surrendering  of 
myself  to  the  ministry  exclusively,  I  have  been  scourged  be- 
yond measure  :  but  at  last  I  came  in,  and  I  never  mean  to 
quit  the  temple  service  of  the  God  whose  name  is  Holy. 

"We  have  long  talked  of  removing  to  America.  If  my 
father  should  not  make  up  his  mind  to  settle  in  Cork,  he 
will  certainly  conclude  to  go  without  further  delay  ;  and 
with  regard  to  the  rest  of  us,  we  can  have  no  objections, 
notwithstanding  the  dangers  of  the  passage,  when  we  have 
such  attractions  already  on  that  side  the  water ."  He  thought 
right,  however,  to  modify  the  phrase,  "we  can  have  no  ob- 
jections," by  adding,  "Perhaps  I  spoke  hastily:  with  regard 
to  myself,  perhaps  my  best  friends  would  not  consent  that  I 
should  remain  in  America  ;  but  at  all  events,  they  could  not 
deny  me  the  indulgence  of  the  heartfelt  pleasure  of  seeing 
you." 

At  the  conclusion  of  a  long  letter  to  his  sister,  he  says, 
"I  often  tell  my  friends  in  this  country  of  my  desire  of  going 
to  America ;  they  will  not  listen  to  it  for  a  moment.  I  do 
indeed  desire  it,  if  it  tvere  Ute  Lord's  ivill,  but  not  other- 
wise. I  long  to  see  you,  that  I  may  be  fdled  with  your 
company  ;   if  it  is  his  will,  he  will  open  the  way." 

America  appeared  to  be  his  providential  destination.  All 
things  were  duly  arranged  for  the  voyage  ;  Mr.  Summer- 
field,  his  revered  father,  his  elder  brother  William,  and  his 
two  sisters  Amelia  and  Anne,  sailed  from  Cork  on  the  12th 
of  December,  1820,  in  the  ship  General  Lingan,  bound  to 
New  York.  The  vessel  being  only  ballasted,  after  a  not 
unpleasant  sail  of  fifteen  days  touched  at  St.  Ubes,  a  Portu- 
guese harbor  about  fifteen  miles  south  of  Lisbon,  to  take  in 
a  cargo  of  salt.  After  staying  at  this  place  some  weeks, 
and  receiving  every  civility  from  the  resident  British  and 


ins   VISIT    TO   ENGLAND.  123 

Americaai  consuls,  they  again  set  sail.  The  captain  of  the 
vessel  was  a  most  gentlemanly  officer,  and  did  every  thing 
in  his  power  to  make  the  passengers  comfortable  :  added  to 
this,  the  young  ladies  had  their  piano  in  the  cabin,  so  that 
the  time  passed  very  agreeably  on  shipboard  ;  the  more  so, 
as  the  breezes  of  the  Atlantic  appeared  to  have  a  favorable 
eflect  upon  Mr.  Summerlield's  health.  On  the  17th  of 
March,  1821,  they  landed  safely  at  New  York. 


124  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

SUMMERFIELD  ARRIVES  AT  NEW  YORK-ELOQUENT  SPEECH— STA- 
TIONED AT  NEW  YORK— SPEECH— UNPRECEDENTED  POPULAR- 
ITY—ADDRESSES CHILDREN— LETTERS— NEWSPAPER  NOTICES- 
IMMENSE  AUDIENCES  AT  WASHINGTON— PREACHES  IN  FRONT 
OF  THE  CAPITOL— AFFECTION  OF  HIS  FRIENDS-LETTERS— PRES- 
ENT OF  A  COAT— AFFECTING  SERMON. 

^^-  *  *  Presently  after  his  arrival  at  New  York,  in 
March,  1821,  he  commenced  his  ministerial  labors,  though 
he  was  in  a  very  indiflerent  state  of  health. 

The  fifth  anniversary  of  the  American  Bible  Society  was 
held  at  the  City  Hotel,  in  the  city  of  New  York,  on  the  10th 
of  May.  The  chair  was  filled  by  the  pi'esident,  the  honor- 
ble  and  venerable  Elias  Boudinot,  LL.  D.,  then  in  the  eighty- 
second  year  of  his  age.  At  this  meeting  Mr.  Summerfield 
made  a  speech  which  produced  a  wonderful  efl'ect,  and  added 
much  to  that  popular  estimation  in  which  he  had  been  rising 
ever  since  he  preached  his  first  sermon.  His  address,  as  im- 
perfectly reported,  was  thus  introduced  : 

"  Sir — Before  I  second  the  motion  you  have  just  heard, 
permit  me  to  make  a  few  observations.  They  shall  be  but 
few,  on  account  of  the  lateness  of  the  hour ;  indeed,  would 
the  time  ailord  it,  much  could  not  be  expected  from  me  after 
the  able  address  of  the  gentleman  who  has  preceded  me.  It 
only  remains  for  us  to  raise  the  shout  of  victory  in  a  cause 
which  yet  goes  on  from  '  conquering,  and  to  conquer.'  Thanks 
be  unto  God,  who  always  causeth  us  to  triumph  in  Christ, 
and  maketh  manifest  the  savor  of  his  knowledge  by  us  in 
every  place.  Already  we  see  the  dawning  of  that  day,  the 
prospect  of  which  so  fired  the  poet's  soul,  when 

"  'The  dwellers  in  the  vale  and  on  the  rocks, 
Shout  to  each  other;  and  the  mountain-tops, 
From  distant  mountains  catch  the  flying  joy; 
Till,  nation  after  nation  taught  the  strain, 
Earth  rolls  the  rapturous  hosanna  round.' 


RECEPTION    IN   AMERICA.  125 

But  while  our  anchor  is  dropped  for  a  few  hours,  that  we 
may  come  ashore  and  tell  you  of  our  past  success,  it  aflords 
as  at  least,  mispeakable  delight  to  call  to  mind  the  dangers 
we  have  escaped,  and  the  difficulties  we  have  overcome. 
To  you  also  it  cannot  but  be  pleasing  to  observe  how  the 
Bible  Society  has  outrode  every  storm  that  was  raised  against 
her.  Though  we  now  appear  in  smooth  waters,  and  have 
of  late  been  wafted  by  auspicious  gales,  yet  from  the  begin- 
ning it  was  not  so.  At  that  time  we  very  often  found  it 
dillicult  to  keep  her  head  to  the  wind ;  and  were  we  em- 
barked in  any  other  cause,  our  soul  must  have  melted  be- 
cause of  trouble.  But  we  never  forgot  that  our  divine  Mas- 
ter had  embarked  with  us ;  and  though  for  a  moment  he 
seemed  asleep  in  the  hinder  part  of  the  ship,  yet,  contrary 
to  the  expectations  of  many  who  did  not  wish  well  to  the 
vessel,  he  awoke  and  said,  'Peace,  be  still;'  and  there  was 
a  great  calm  :  and  again  he  said,  '  Fear  not,  for  I  am  with 
thee ;  be  not  dismayed,  for  I  am  thy  God.  All  they  that 
were  incensed  against  thee,  shall  be  ashamed  and  confound- 
ed ;  they  shall  be  as  nothing ;  and  they  that  strive  with  thee 
shall  perish.' 

"  li"  our  successes  had  been  less  brilliant  than  the  report 
has  .stated,  nay,  if  our  undertaking  were  productive  of  no 
good  to  others,  it  has  at  least  been  productive  of  muck  good 
to  ourselves.  It  has  brought  together  the  representatives 
of  many  Christian  churches,  and  given  us  a  common  stand 
on  which  we  may  all  meet ;  and  forgetting  our  peculiarities 
of  sentiment  in  other  matters,  we  have  seen  that  our  Lord's 
petition  may  yet  be  answered,  'that  they  all  mmj  he  o)ie.' 
We  approach  each  other  in  angular  lines  when  we  can  no 
longer  proceed  in  parallels,  and  meet  at  length  in  one  com- 
mon centre — the  good  of  the  cause  in  which  we  have  en- 
gaged ;  a  cause  whose  single  object  is,  '  Grlory  to  God  in  the 
highest,  and  on  earth,  peace,  good- will  towards  men  ;'  a 
cause  in  which 


126  REV.  JOHN  SUMMERFIELD. 

"  '  Names  ami  sects  and  parties  fall, 
And  Jesus  Christ  is  all  in  all.' 

"  But  the  enemies  of  the  cause  object  to  us,  that  osten- 
tation, a  parade  of"  piety,  originated  and  continues  Bible  so- 
cieties. Alas,  sir,  Bible  Christianity  iia  every  form  must 
obtain  the  reproach  of  this  "vvorld  in  our  enlightened  age. 
If  the  inward  leelings  and  comforts  of  the  gospel  are  pro- 
fessed, the  profession  is  resolved  into  enthusiasm ;  on  the 
other  hand,  if  a  cordial  zeal  to  advance  the  interests  of 
Christianity  express  itself  in  the  most  unexceptionable  way, 
even  the  putting  of  God's  word  into  the  hands  of  sinful  man, 
this  humble  and  ardent  zeal  is  reproached  as  fanatical  pride. 
Thus  inward  religion  is  enthusiasm,  and  outward  religion 
is  faTiaticism  ;  and  by  a  modern  species  of  fashionable  scan- 
dal, men  having  denied  '  the  j^otver  of  godliness,'  decry  the 
very  form  thereof  '  To  what  shall  we  liken  this  genera- 
tion ?  It  is  like  unto  children  sitting  in  the  markets,  and 
calling  unto  their  fellows,  and  saying,  We  have  piped  unto 
you,  and  ye  have  not  danced  ;  we  have  mourned  unto  you,  and 
ye  have  not  lamented.'  There  is  no  pleasing  such  charac- 
ters in  any  way  ;  '  but  wisdom  is  justified  of  her  children.' 

"  But  objections  to  Bible  societies  are  now  too  late  ;  we 
have  swallowed  the  camel,  and  shall  we  strain  at  the  gnat  ? 
Our  opponents  will  never  be  able  either  to  suppress  the 
eflbrts  or  impede  the  progress  of  Bible  societies.  Sooner 
may  they  arrest  the  sun  at  the  antipodes,  and  prevent  his 
rising  to  illuminate  our  horizon  ;  sooner  may  they  confine 
the  winds  in  the  cave  of  ^'Eolus,  never  again  to  cool  and 
refresh  our  atmosphere ;  sooner  may  they  stem  the  mighty 
stream  that  laves  the  mountain's  sides,  and  interdict  its 
progress  to  the  ocean.  Yes,  the  word  of  God  shall  accom- 
plish that  which  he  pleases ;  it  shall  prosper  in  the  thing 
•  whereunto  he  has  sent  it ;  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  the 
Lord  shall  cover  the  earth  as  the  waters  cover  the  sea  :  the 
mouth  of  the  Lord  hath  spoken  it. 


RECEPTION   IN  AMERICA.  127 

"  In  seconding  the  motion  of  thanks  to  the  venerable  pres- 
ident, I  am  assured  of  the  consentaneous  feehng  of  every 
heart  around  me.  When  I  behehl  him  enter  the  room,  I 
felt  a  thrill  strike  througli  my  soul,  but  which  I  cannot  de- 
scribe. I  believe  it  vi^as  the  generous  throb  of  every  indi- 
vidual here  present,  at  the  sight  of  Boudinot  ;  it  was  sym- 
pathetic, and  every  heart  vibrated  in  perfect  unison  with 
my  own.  My  imagination  involuntarily  recognized  in  liim 
a  resemblance  to  pious  Jacob ;  and  '  finding  the  time  draw 
near  when  he  must  die,'  I  fancied  that  he  had  said  in  his 
heart,  'Gather  yourselves  together,  that  I  may  bless  you 
before  I  die.'  And  when  one  told  Jacob,  and  said,  'Behold 
thy  sons  come  unto  thee,  Israel  strengthened  himself  and 
sat  upon  the  bed,'  and  said,  '  Hear,  ye  sons  of  Jacob,  and 
hearken  unto  Israel  your  father.'  Instead  of  urging  upon 
you  any  thing  as  a  motive  to  your  unanimously  seconduig 
the  motion,  I  leave  it  to  yourselves  and  the  best  feelings  of 
your  hearts ;  nor  am  I  at  all  apprehensive  for  the  result. 
At  the  same  time,  you  will  present  your  thanks  to  Almighty 
God  for  havmg  raised  up  such  a  father  to  your  society,  for 
having  put  it  into  his  heart  to  '  come  to  the  help  of  the  Lord 
against  the  mighty ;'  and  as  the  best  way  of  expressing  your 
gratitude  to  this  servant  of  the  Lord,  remember  him  sincerely 
at  the  throne  of  grace,  and  pray  that  whenever  it  shall  please 
the  Head  of  the  church  and  God  of  the  Bible  to  remove 
him  hence,  his  last  hours  may  be  peace.  Pray  that  God 
would  speak  to  his  heart  the  word  which  once  cheered  the 
fainting  mind  of  Israel  of  old  :  '  Fear  not  to  go  do^n  into 
EgyjJt  ;  I  will  go  down  with  thee  into  Egypt,  and  I  will 
also  surely  bring  thee  up  again ;'  and  that  borne  up  under 
this  assurance,  he  may  be  able  to  say  to  his  surviving  friends 
with  a  heavenly  smile, '  Whither  I  go  ye  know,  and  the  way 
ye  know.'  " 

He  attended  the  conference  held  at  Troy,  in  the  state  of 
New  York,  in  the  mouth  of  June,  and  was  admitted  into  the 


128  REV.  JOHN   SUiMMERFIELD. 

connection  upon  what  he  regarded  as  liberal  terms ;  for  having 
left  Ireland  somewhat  suddenly,  he  had  not  with  him  a  single 
letter  of  recommendation  from  that  country.  This  difficulty, 
as  it  might  have  proved,  was  obviated  by  a  letter  which  he 
received  from  the  Rev.  John,  late  bishop  Emory,  who  thus, 
in  the  most  friendly  and  aflectionate  manner,  interfered  in 
Mr.  Summerfield's  behalf,  from  a  knowledge  of  his  standing 
in  Britain.  Being  thus  received,  he  Avas  stationed  in  the 
city  of  New  York  ;  the  term  of  probation  required  being 
calculated  from  the  period  of  his  joining  the  connection  in 
Ireland,  which  left  one  year  only  for  trial,  previous  to  his 
admission  to  the  office  of  a  deacon. 

After  his  retvxrn  from  tlie  Troy  conference,  he  thus  writes 
in  his  diary  :  "Having  been  appointed  for  New  York  city, 
I  have  sought  to  ratify  the  same  at  the  throne  of  grace.  I 
feel  as  if  God  would  be  with  me  this  year ;  he  has  given  me 
good  earnest  of  it,  and  I  enter  upon  my  arduous  duties,  rely- 
ing upon  his  strong  arm  alone."  After  a  few  days,  he  adds, 
"  I  find  that  my  ensuing  year's  labors  will  be  double  my 
expectations."  "I  feel  as  if  this  year  would  terminate  my 
mortal  existence.  My  body  is  perfect  weakness  :  my  soul 
sympathizes  too  often  with  my  body,  and  wants  that  lively 
vigor  and  energy  I  so  much  need  ;  but  I  feel  that  Jesus  will 
do  all  things  well." 

On  Sunday,  June  10,  he  preached  the  anniversary  ser- 
mon of  the  Marine  church  in  New  York,  and  on  the  follow- 
ing Wednesday,  delivered  an  address  in  Dr.  Romeyn's  church, 
on  the^rst  report  of  the  institution.  *  *  *  A  brief  outline 
of  Mr.  Summerfield's  speech  at  the  first  anniversary  of  the 
Bethel  Union  is  preserved,  a  few  passages  from  which  will 
not  be  iinacceptable  to  the  reader  in  this  place.  Having 
noticed  the  iudifl'erence  which  the  Christian  world  had  sovi 
long  manifested  towards  sailors,  "he  recollected  that  this 
neglect  had  been  from  time  immemorial ;  and  that  the  opin- 
ions of  the  wise  and  learned  sages  of  antiquity,  although  in 


RECEniON    IN    AMERICA.  129 

many  of  tliem  but  Learned  ignorance,  had  tended  to  perpet- 
uate this  practice  still  more  and  more.  Plato  had  declared 
that  the  sea  was  the  school  of  vice  ;  and  of  course  seamen 
were  regarded  as  scholars  of  wickedness  themselves,  and 
teachers  of  it  to  others.  But  this  was  not  the  lowest  opinion 
formed  of  them  by  the  ancients.  AVhen  Anacharsis  Avas 
asked  whether  he  supposed  that  the  number  of  the  dead  ex- 
ceeded the  number  of  the  living,  he  replied,  'First  inform  me 
in  which  of  these  classes  seamen  are  to  be  placed ;'  imply- 
ing, that  though  they  had  'a  name  to  live,'  they  were  con- 
sidered virtually  dead,  and  of  course  not  worthy  of  any  labor 
which  would  tend  to  meliorate  their  condition. 

"The  opinions  of  our  Christian  ancestors  were  not  much 
more  exalted  on  this  subject.  He  was  reminded  by  a  speaker 
who  had  alluded  to  the  great  and  good  John  Flavel,  of  the 
sentiment  of  the  good  puritan  with  referei^ce  to  seamen  in  his 
day.  '  The  same,'  said  he,  '  may  be  applied  to  them,  which 
was  said  of  an  ungodly  minister  then  living — whose  pulpit 
discourses  were  so  superior  to  his  daily  practice,  that  it  were 
a  pity  he  should  ever  leave  the  pulpit ;  for  when  mounted 
there,  he  Avas  as  near  to  heaven  as  ever  he  would  be  :  so,' 
says  the  honest  divine,  '  may  it  be  said  of  seamen ;  when 
tossed  upon  the  waves,  '  they  mount  up  to  heaven,'  as  the 
Psalmist  expresses  it — it  were  a  pity  they  should  ever  de- 
scend again  ;  for  that  was  as  near  as  ever  they  would  be.' 

"Mr.  Summerfield  observed,  he  could  not  recollect  that 
any  favorable  notice  had  been  taken  of  seamen  by  the  .Chris- 
tian world,  except  that  they  were  included  in  the  prayers 
of  the  church  of  England  by  the  petition  for  'all  who  travel 
by  land  or  by  water.'  But  alas,  in  this  case  sailors  might 
in  some  sort  apply  the  reasoning  which  had  been  used  with 
Reference  to  the  Catholic  priest,  who  \vould  willingly  give  the 
poor  man  his  blessing,  but  not  a  sixpence  of  his  money  ; 
which  led  the  suppliant  to  remark  to  the  ecclesiastic,  that 
as  it  was  evident  he  would  not  bestow  it  if  it  cost  him 

6* 


130  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

but  sixpence,  so  he  would  dispense  with  it.  Until  the  pres- 
ent day,  seamen  might  retort  upon  the  Christian  world  in 
similar  language.  "We  have  iiraycd,  hut  have  not  labored  for 
their  welfare ;  we  have  talked  a  good  deal,  but  have  done 
nothing,  until  the  formation  of  the  Bethel  Union  Society. 
But  now  the  stigma  is  removed  ;  and,  said  Mr.  Summer- 
field,  although  I  must  turn  my  eyes  from  the  chair  to  ex- 
press it,  lest  a  forbidding  look  should  chill  the  declaration  I 
am  proud  to  make,  there  are  not  wanting  Christians  who 
give  more  than  their  prayers  on  every  Sabbath-day  ;  who 
give  their  wealth,  their  time,  their  every  thing,  in  this  labor 
of  love ;  and  who  would  not  count  their  own  lives  too  dear 
to  sacrifice  in  the  cause  of  Him,  '  whose  they  are,  and  \\4rom 
they  serve.' 

"  The  disregard  which  seamen  are  thought  to  inanifest 
for  the  Sabbath  and  every  religious  observance,  is  generally 
owing  to  a  similar  cause — the  disrespect  which  their  cap- 
tains manifest  to  these  things.  The  couplet  which  seamen 
have  learned,  as  expressive  of  the  Egyptian  rigor  of  their 
taskmasters,  is  in  a  great  measure  true  : 

"  '  Six  days  thou  shalt  work,  and  do  all  thou  art  aLle ; 

On  the  seventh,  thou  shalt  scour  the  decks,  and  then  wa.sh  the  cable.' 

"  But  let  the  captains  and  owners  of  ships  show  a  ven- 
eration for  the  Lord's  day,  and  seamen  will  respect  it  more. 
It  was  therefore  with  pleasure  that  Mr.  Summerfield  sec- 
onded a  resolution  of  thanks  to  those  captains  and  owners 
who  had  dared  to  be  singidar,  and  whose  example  he 
trusted  would  be  followed  by  many  others." 

His  popularity  now  became  unprecedentedly  great ;  peo- 
ple of  all  denominations  crowded  to  hear  him.  It  was  no 
uncommon  thing  ibr  multitudes  to  surround  the  church  where 
he  was  expected,  awaiting  the  opening  of  the  doors,  so  that 
before  the  time  of  service  hundreds  have  had  to  return  dis- 
appointed, being  unable  to  gain  admittance.     And  repeat- 


RECEPTION    IN    AMERICA.  131 

edly  these  crowds  have  been  so  dense  that  he  had  to  get  to 
the  pulpit  through  the  windows.  Weak  as  he  was,  it  was 
his  practice  to  preach  on  an  average  three  times  a  week, 
besides  dchveriiig  addresses  on  various  occasions. 

It  had  ever  been  his  dehght — an  uncommon  merit  with 
men  so  eminently  gifted — to  address  juvenile  auditories.  He 
now  made  it  a  point  to  preach  once  a  month  to  the  children, 
taking  up  at  the  same  time  a  collection  for  the  Missionary 
Society.  In  these  addresses,  the  children  were  delighted  by 
his  method  of  instruction  :  the  simplicity  and  familiarity  of 
his  manner  soon  won  the  attention  of  his  youthful  hearers ; 
and  then  did  he  impress  upon  their  susceptible  minds  the 
truths  of  the  gospel,  illustrating  his  remarks  by  the  most 
striking  metaphors,  and  by  interesting  and  appropriate  anec- 
dotes. On  these  occasions  he  never  forgot  the  parents ;  for, 
as  he  used  to  say,  he  liked  to  preach  to  the  children,  because 
it  aObrded  him  an  opportunity  of  speaking  through  them 
plainly  and  atiectionately  to  their  parents. 

When  convalescent  from  a  severe  attack  which  had  con- 
fined him  to  his  bed  about  ten  days,  he  wrote  as  follows  to 
an  esteemed  Christian  friend. 

To  Mrs.  Garrettson. 

"Brooklyn,  20tli  September,  1821. 

"My  dear  Mrs.  Garrettsox — Will  you  itululge  me  with 
the  privilege  of  gratifying  some  of  the  best  feelings  of  my 
heart  while  I  converse  with  you  a  few  minutes  in  the  way 
of  letter  correspondence.  Not  that  I  have  any  thing  pecu- 
liarly interesting  to  communicate,  except  a  recital  of  the 
mercy  of  God  in  some  particulars  which  have  affected  me 
since  we  parted  at  the  throne  of  his  mercy.  I  have  been 
laboring  under  a  very  severe  aliliction  for  some  time  back, 
and  this  is  the  first  day  that  I  have  risen  from  my  bed  since 
yesterday  week.     While  the  Lord  was  overshadowing  my 

dear  friends  at  R with  the  pillar  of  fire,  and  baptizing 

them  with  the  Holy  Ghost,  he  cast  darkness  around  my 


132  REV.    JUIIN    SU-MMERFIELD. 

path  and  ove^shado^ved  me  witli  the  cloud.  I  must  confess 
'I  feared  while  entering  into  the  cloud,'  that  I  should  never 
see  you  more ;  and  I  was  rather  wishful  to  remain  here  a 
little  longer  for  the  'furtherance  and  joy  of  faith'  of  many 
whom  1  love  'in  the  bowels  of  Jesus  Christ.'  My  expecta- 
tion and  hope  was  to  have  been  at  your  camp-meeting ;  but 
an  unexpected  application  i'rom  Trenton  arrived,  of  such  a 
nature  that  my  brethren  here  judged  it  better  that  I  should 
accept  of  that  invitation.  I  feared  to  sufler  my  own  avIU  to 
preponderate,  and  accordingly  yielded  to  their  opinion.  The 
day  after  I  arrived  there  I  was  attacked  with  a  complaint 
novel  to  me,  but  extremely  afflictive — it  proved  the  dysen- 
tery. It  was  not,  however,  so  bad  as  to  prevent  my  preach- 
ing on  the  next  Sabbath.  That  evening  medicine  was  ad- 
ministered in  the  hope  of  checking  the  complaint,  but  in 
vain.  I  was  enabled  by  my  good  Lord  to  preach  again  on 
Monday  and  again  on  Tuesday  :  this  was  quite  enough,  and 
I  returned  to  Brunswick  on  Wednesday,  thence  on  Thursday 
to  New  York.  Considering  the  pain  I  was  in,  and  the  na- 
ture of  the  complaint,  I  wonder  how  I  arrived  home.  I  did 
not  ivalk,  but  c raided  to  Brooklyn.  I  took  my  bed  immedi- 
ately, and  this  is  the  first  morning  I  have  quitted  it.  My 
complaint  has  yielded  to  the  influence  of  bleeding,  blisters, 
etc.,  and  I  do  now  expect  that  it  will  prove  of  the  utmost 
benefit  to  my  constitution.  As  it  respects  the  inner  man,  I 
lL4t  much  of  the  supporting  power  of  Him  who  yet  'bears 
our  griclis  and  carries  our  sorrows.'     I  am  persuaded  that 

'■'Behind  a  frowning  Providence 
He  hides  a  smiling  face.' 

lie  ^a\\'  the  furnace  preparing,  he  watched  the  moment 
when  1  entered  in,  he  walked  with  me  in  the  flame,  nor 
Kufiered  a  hair  of  my  head  to  be  singed.      Yes, 

'•  'I  flourished  unconsumed  in  fire.^ 

I  have  very  often  had  to  say  with  David,  '  It  was  good  for 


RECEPTION    IN   AMERICA.  133 

me  that  1  was  afflicted.'  I  think  my  illnt-'.-sej;  have  in  gen- 
eral the  ellect  of  making  me  sink  deeper  into  that  mould 
"which  is  impressed  with  my  favorite  motto,  'humble  love.' 
The  more  frequent  the  hfasts,  the  firmer  docs  the  tree  bind 
itself  to  that  into  which  it  has  been  planted.  Planted  as  we 
have  been  into  the  likeness  of  the  death  of  Christ,  our  afiec- 
tions  strike  still  deeper,  while  the  adverse  winds  of  his  ap- 
pointment strike  upon  the  trunk  and  shake  us  to  the  very 
root.  0,  to  feel  at  that  time  that  we  are  steadfast  and  im- 
movable, and  that  neither  death  nor  life  can  separate  us 
from  His  love.  0,  that  this  -late  dispensation  may  have  au 
increasingly  salutary  influence  upon  my  future  life  and  con- 
versation. 

'•  'My  sole  concern,  my  single  care, 
To  watch  and  tremble,  and  prepare 
Against  that  fatal  day.' 

"Enough  of  so  unworthy  a  creature  as  myself     How 

is  it  with  my  kind  friends  at  R ?  nay,  I  call  you  not 

friends — my  relations — my  fathers  and  mothers,  and  broth- 
ers and  sisters.  I  feel  we  are  owe  in  Christ  Jesus— -one 
family  in  him,  we  meet  and  feel  the  bond  divine.  Do  let 
me  hear  from  you  or  Mrs.  S. :  indeed  this  letter  is  as  much 
hers  as  yours.  To  her  and  you  all  things  are  common.  If 
her  stay  in  the  country  should  be  protracted,  I  will  write  to 
her  when  I  am  a  little  more  able,  for  I  even  now  feel  pain 
owing  to  my  state  of  health  being  so  weak.  However,  she 
is  not  jealous  with  me  ;  she  is  assured  of  my  love. 

"I  am  anxious  to  hear  how  the  Avork  of  Liod  proceeds 
with  your  neighbors.  Here,  the  Lord  is  doing  wonders.  I 
believe  seventy  souls  have  been  added  to  our  society  here 
within  the  last  month,  and  many  of  them  added  to  the 
Jjord.  In  New  York  we  have  the  cloud  rising  out  of  the 
sea  :  it  was  but  little,  as  a  human  hand,  but  it  is  expanding. 
I  believe  between  fifty  and  sixty  have  been  brought  in  tliere 
in  the  same  time. 


134  REV.   JOHN   SUiMMERFIELD. 

'"Lo,  the  proiTii.se  of  a  shower 
Drops  ah-eady  from  above, 
But  the  Lord  will  shortly  pour 
All  the  spirit  of  his  love.'     A)nen  and  Amen. 

"  I  hasten  to  a  close.  I  am  quite  tired  :  this  i.s  my 
apology  for  a  scrawl  iii  my  weak  state  almost  uuiutclligible 
to  myself.  Give  my  respects  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  T.  I  hope  he 
fell  in  love  with  the  '  Altogether  Lovely '  at  your  camp- 
meeting.  0,  that  I  could  hear  that  he  was  lovesick.  You 
will  be  sure  not  to  forget  to  remember  me  affectionately  to 
all  my  dear  friends.  Yours,  etc., 

"J.  SUMMERFIELD." 

The  subjoined  letter  to  a  lady  may  with  nnich  propriety 
close  the  notices  of  the  present  year. 

'■New  York,  28th  October,  1821. 

"My  dear  Sister — For  such  I  trust  you  will  allow  me 
to  call  you — I  can  assure  you  it  is  with  feelings  of  no  ordi- 
nary kind  that  I  now  sit  down  to  address  you ;  but  I  feel  as 
if  I  needed  no  introduction  :  you  will  meet  me  with  the  sal- 
utation, '  How  beautiful  are  the  feet  of  them  that  publish 
glad  tidings  of  good  things.'  Believe  me,  the  day  has  not 
often  gone  by  in  which  I  have  not  thought  of  you,  and 
prayed  that  the  God  of  all  grace  would  cause  you  to  abound 
in  every  good  and  perfect  work  ;  that  he  would  perfect  in 
you  that  which  is  lacking,  and  cause  you  to  be  steadfast, 
immovable,  always  abounding  in  the  work  of  the  Lord. 

"Startle  not  at  difficidties.  I  have  in  general  marked, 
that  when  they  have  crossed  our  religious  path  at  our  setting 
out,  we  have  become  more  confirmed  thencelbrward  in  our 
professions.  Winds  and  storms  have  always  the  eifect  of 
causing  the  tree  to  strike  deeper  root,  and  adhere  more 
firmly  to  that  into  which  it  has  been  planted  :  and  again, 
those  trees  whose  roots  strike  deepest,  are  more  upright  in 
the  tendency  of  their  growth,  and  outtop  the  trees  of  the 
forest.     0  that  this  may  indeed  become  the  case  with  you ; 


RECEPTION    IN   AMERICA.  135 

that  you  may  sink  deeper  into  the  love  of  God,  and  rise 
higher  in  the  attainment  and  enjoyment  of  holiness  of 
heart — the  mind  which  was  in  Jesus — straight  and  tqj- 
o'ight,  always  tending  heavenward,  and  attracted  thither 
continually  by  the  influence  of  the  Sun  of  righteousness. 
I  trust  my  dear  sister  has  learned  the  happy  art  of  fleeing 
to  the  Strong  for  strength — that  she  has  often  opened  the 
treasury  of  heaven  by  the  key  of  prayer,  and  by  the  hand 
of  faith  received  out  of  His  fulness  grace  upon  grace. 
Never  forget  that  '  man  shall  be  blessed  as  much  as  man 
permits' — that  the  invitation  is,  'Come,  for  all  things  are 
now  ready;  ask  what  you  will,  and  it  shall  be  given  you; 
and  whatsoever  you  ask  the  Father  in  my  name,  it  shall  be 
done  for  you.'  But  mark,  ask  in  faith,  nothing  doubting ; 
remember,  the  condition  remains  ever  this,  '  If  thou  canst  be- 
lieve, thou  shalt  see  the  salvation  of  God.'  Whatsoever  ye 
ask  in  prayer,  believing  that  ye  receive,  ye  shall  have  them ; 
for  'all  things  are  possible  to  him  that  believeth.'  Seek, 
however,  the  present  belief  for  a  present  blessing :  though  it 
is  promised  that  you  'shall  see  the  salvation  of  God,'  yet  it 
is  if  thou  canst  now  believe.  0,  then,  cry  out,  '  Lord,  I  do 
believe ' — I  do  noio  believe  ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief  Be- 
lieve that  God  has  given  you  eternal  life,  and  that  life  is  in 
his  Son. 


And  then. 


" '  See  all  your  sins  on  Jesus  laid — 
The  Lamb  of  God  was  slain  ;' 


'"Believe,  and  all  your  sin's  forgiven; 
Only  believe,  and  yours  is  heaven.' 


"May  God  open  to  you  the  mystery  of  faith;  give  you 
eyes  to  see  that  he  has  given  you  every  tiling  in  the  gift  of 
Jesus — pardon  and  holiness  and  heaven  ;  believe  that  they 
are  yours,  and  yours  through  the  right  of  Jesus,  and  yours 
noiv,  and  you  will  soon  receive  the  seal  of  his  Spirit,  as 
the  witness  of  your  adoption  into  the  family  of  his  dear  Son. 


136  REV.   JOHN    SUMMERFIELD. 

Write  me  fully  and  freely,  and  I  will  from  time  to  time  com- 
municate sucli  advice  as  the  Lord  shall  enable  me.  Mean- 
time, with  many  assurances  of  Christian  hrotherly  affection, 

believe  me  your  sincere  well-wisher, 

"J.  SUMMERFIELD." 

The  year  1822  was  one  of  great  importance  in  Mr.  Sum- 
merfield's  ministerial  life,  and  the  bundle  of  documents  re- 
lating thereto  is  rich  in  interesting  and,  I  am  sorry  to  add, 
melancholy  memorials ;  as,  however,  his  journal — v/ith  an 
exception  hereafter  noticed — was  intermitted  for  at  least 
twenty  months,  I  shall  introduce  ample  extracts  from  his 
correspondence. 

In  a  letter  to  his  father,  dated  Ncav  York,  January  12, 
1822,  he  says,  "  We  are  doing  well  here  in  our  church  con- 
cerns ;  the  Lord  has  graciously  poured  out  his  Spirit  on  the 
late  festival  occasions,  and  numbers  have  been  converted  to 
him.  I  preached  on  the  watch-night  in  John-street,  and 
the  word  was  indeed  accompanied  with  power ;  it  was  the 
best  season  of  the  kind  ever  remembered  in  this  city ;  but 
particularly  on  last  Sabbath  the  Lord  visited  his  people.  I 
preached  in  the  evening  in  John-street,  and  after  preaching, 
I  renewed  the  covenant,  as  we  do  in  Europe.  It  was  alto- 
gether new  here.  It  was  accompanied  with  a  great  bless- 
ing, and  between  twenty  and  thirty  souls  have  been  added 
to  the  Lord  in  consequence  ;  besides,  there  is  a  great  deepen- 
ing of  religion  in  the  hearts  of  our  people,  and  we  have  peace 
and  love  in  all  our  borders." 

The  following  extract  is  from  a  letter  to  Mr.  Blackstock, 
dated  Baltimore,  March  5,  1822  : 

"  On  Friday  morning  I  left  Philadelphia  at  six  o'clock, 
and  travelled  without  any  intermission,  except  about  two 
hours,  till  near  six  o'clock  on  Saturday  evening,  when  I  ar- 
rived in  Baltimore,  jaded  indeed.  The  road  was  good,  except 
about  fifty  miles  of  it,  which  was  indeed  intolerable.  How- 
ever, 1  am  in  good  health,  thaidi  God,  and  quite  recruited. 


RECEPTION   IN   AMERICA.  137 

"  My  reception  here  has  been  highly  grateful  to  my  feel- 
ings as  a  Methodist.  The  attention  shown  me  by  all  ranks, 
is  more  than  I  can  well  bear ;  but  the  Lord  supports  me. 
Indeed  I  feel  in  a  very  unpleasant  situation  in  a  certain 
degree  :  Avhen  I  came  to  jNTew  York  I  was  uuknown,  and 
W'hatever  favor  therefore  the  Lord  gave  me  in  the  eyes  of 
the  people,  was  more  than  was  calculated  upon  ;  but  here 
fame  has  preceded  me,  and  blown  a  very  loud  trumpet 
indeed.  Many  expect  from  me,  I  almost  think,  something 
more  than  human,  and  as  all  such  must  inevitably  be  disap- 
pointed, I  stand  upon  very  unequal  ground  from  my  situa- 
tion in  New  York  :  there,  they  expected  nothing  ;  here,  they 
expect  every  thing. 

"  I  preached  on  Sabbath  morning  in  Light-street  church, 
to  a  great  multitude,  although  my  fatigues  from  travelling 
were  great. 

"  On  Friday  morning  I  intend  to  set  ofl'  to  AYashington, 
in  Mr.  Foxalls  carriage  ;  he  is  here  with  me,  and  is  indeed 
a  kind  father  to  me.  I  shall  be  absent  from  here  the  two 
following  Sabbaths,  visiting  Washington,  LTCorgetown,  and 
Alexandria,  and  return  on  the  Thursday  following.  The 
next  day  I  have  to  attend  the  meeting  of  the  Bible  society 
here,  and  in  a  few  days  after,  that  of  the  Sabbath-schools : 
as  soon  as  possible  afterwards,  I  go  on  to  Annapolis,  to  brother 
Emory. 

"  You   need  not  be  apprehensive  concerning   me,  for  I 

assure  you  I  have  found  a  father  in  brother  R :  he  is 

the  presiding  elder  in  this  district,  and  will  not  permit  me 
to  preach  oftener  than  three  times  a  week  ;  so  that  I  can 
shelter  myself  under  his  authority,  and  avoid  all  extra 
solicitations. 

"I  am  at  present  at  brother  H 's ;  he  is  indeed  a 

kind  man,  and  receives  me  ^^^th  an  Irish  icelcome." 

To  those  who  heard  this  devout  and  eloquent  "  messen- 
ger of  the  churches"  preach  during  the  progress  alluded  to 


138  REV. 'JOHN   SUMMEE-FIELD. 

ill  the  forofroiup:  ])aragruplis,  no  descripliou  can  be  necessary 
to  recall  him  in  llieir  hearts  and  nieinories.  Others,  hoAV- 
ever,  Avho  had  not  that  privilege,  will  be  gratified  to  have 
their  conceptions  aided  hy  the  following  passages,  extracted 
from  long  newspaper  notices  published  at  the  time  and  on 
the  spot. 

"  It  has  often  been  asked  by  those  avIio  have  not  enjoyed 
the  pleasm'e  of  hearing  Mr.  Summerfield,  in  what  the  pecu- 
liar character  of  his  preaching  consisted  ? 

"  The  youth  and  apparent  debility  of  the  speaker  ;  the 
deferent  and  solemn  manner  in  which  he  performed  the  ini- 
tiatory offices  of  divine  worship  ;  and,  above  all,  the  chaste 
and  fervent  simplicity  of  his  petition  to  the  Eternal,  swept 
aside  all  prejudice  and  opened  every  heart  and  every  eye  to 
the  truth  and  '  beauty  of  holiness.' 

"  His  sermon  was  beyond  comparison  superior  to  any 
thing  the  writer  ever  heard,  although  he  has  enjoyed  oppor- 
tunities of  hearing,  with  no  careless  ear,  many  I'aithful  and 
able  ministers  of  the  word.  It  was  not  of  that  declamatory 
kind  which  is  calculated  to  excite  the  feelings  of  a  promis- 
cuous assembly  ;  nor  of  that  subtle  and  metaphysical  texture 
which  involves  the  most  vigorous  intellects,  and  perplexes 
the  plainest  truth.  It  was,  on  the  contrary,  a  happy  union 
of  argument  and  entreaty ;  seeking  to  convince  and  '  per- 
suade men'  of  propositions  distinctly  stated,  cogently  en- 
forced, and  happily  illustrated  by  natural  and  felicitous 
imagery.  It  was  the  outpouring  of  a  full  heart,  seeking  to 
disburden  itself  of  the  awful  responsibility  of  its  station,  and 
to  give  vent  to  the  'glad  tidings'  of  the  gospel,  as  the  Spirit 
gave  it  utterance." 

Speaking  of  his  services  in  Light-street  church,  the  cor- 
respondent of  another  local  paper  says,  "  It  is  unnecessary 
here  to  mention  the  text  he  took  to  expound,  or  the  manner 
in  which  he  applied  the  words  of  it  in  elucidating  his  dis- 
course ;  it  is  sufficient  to  say,  that  the  forcible,  energetic. 


RECEPTION   IN   AMERICA.  139 

and  masterly  maimer  in  which  he  addressed  the  congrega- 
tion— the  chastity  and  harmony  of  his  language — the  beauty 
and  elegance  of  his  whole  discourse — the  deep  knowledge  he 
displayed  of  theologjs  not  only  reflected  honor  upon  his  head, 
but  evinced  in  an  eminent  degree,  the  purity  and  goodness 
of  his  heart  as  a  Christian  and  minister  of  the  gospel. 
Nature  has  indeed  bestowed  upon  him  the  noblest  faculty 
that  can  be  given  to  man,  combining  in  itself  all  the  force  of 
reason,  the  cogency  of  argument,  and  the  propriety  of  deliv- 
ery— for  such  is  eloquence."' 

Under  the  head  of  "  The  modern  Whitfield,"  the 
"Delaware  Watchman"  gives  a  long  letter  from  a  corre- 
spondent at  Philadelphia.  "  The  discourses  of  this  wonder- 
ful man,"  says  the  writer,  "  are  not  formed  vipon  the  model 
of  orators,  ancient  or  modern.  They  are  not  made  up  ac- 
cording to  the  prescriptions  of  rhetoricians  of  great  or  lesser 
name  ;  they  owe  nothing  to  the  magnificence  of  words  or 
the  studied  graces  of  manner  ;  but  they  are  deeply  imbued 
with  the  living  spirit  of  thought,  and  are  dependent  for  their 
influence  alone  upon  the  omnipotence  of  truth  and  the  irre- 
sistible energy  of  genius.  His  gestures  are  without  aflecta- 
tion — few,  but  fearless  and  appropriate.  His  words  spring 
free  and  spontaneous  from  his  thoughts,  and  these  gush  on 
with  one  continued  flow  from  the  deep  and  uni'ailing  foun- 
tain of  a  spirit  whose  source  is  in  nature  and  in  God." 

However  gratifying  it  might  be  to  go  on  with  these 
transcriptions,  which  might  be  extended  through  "several 
pages,  from  other  papers,  the  foregoing  may  be  suflicient  as 
specimens  of  the  whole,  at  least  in  this  place  :  it  may  suffice, 
therefore,  to  add  the  following,  from  a  Philadelphia  print : 
"Mr.  Summerfield,  a  clergyman  from  England  of  the  Meth- 
odist persuasion,  has  lately  delivered  several  sermons  in  this 
city,  which  have  been  attended  by  most  unexampled  congre- 
gations, of  all  denominations  of  Christians.  He  is  truly  pow- 
erful both  in  argument  and  eloquence.     He  is  an  able  and 


140  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

strenuous  advocate  of  the  doctrines  of  Christianity.  His  last 
discourse  previous  to  leaving  our  city  was  delivered  yesterday 
morning,  in  Dr.  Wilson's  church  Washington-square,  in  the 
presence  of  most  of  the  clergy  and  a  concourse  of  at  least 
four  thousand  persons."  Like  a  true  evangelist,  he  em- 
braced this  signal  opportunity  of  expounding  to  his  hearers 
one  of  the  most  vital  topics  of  revelation  :  •'  Seeing  then  that 
we  have  a  great  High-priest,  that  is  passed  into  the  heavens, 
Jesus  the  Son  of  God,  let  us  hold  fast  our  profession." 
Hcb.  4  :  11. 

While  this  tumult  of  popular  feeling  was  excited  by  and 
around  him,  how  seasonable  was  the  following  monitory 
clause  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Summerfield  at  Baltimore,  by  his 
friend  the  Rev.  Joshua,  now  bishop,  Soule.  "Amidst  the 
mighty  crowd,  I  trust  your  single  eye  is  lixed  on  Jesus,  the 
author  and  finisher  of  our  faith.  All  your  honors,  all  your 
trophies,  you  will  hang  upon  the  cross,  knowing  nothing 
but  '  Hwi  cnicijied.'  Watch  thou  in  all  things ;  do  the 
work  of  an  evangelist ;  make  full  inoof  of  thy  ministry, 
holding  the  faith  of  which  some  have  made  shij)wreck.  Let 
others  attempt  to  eclipse  the  glory  of  Emmanuel,  God  icilh 
us,  and  limit  the  j^f^^foctions  and  being  of  the  divine  Aoyof ; 
but  ours  be  the  pleasing  task  to  preach  '  Jesus  Christ,  the 
same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever-.'" 

His  further  progress  will  be  best  described  in  his  own 
words.  Writing  to  Mr.  Blackstock  Irom  Georgetown,  vuider 
date  of  the  13th  of  March,  he  says,  "  I  left  Baltimore  on 
Friday  in  Mr.  Foxall's  carriage,  Mrs.  Foxall  accompanying 
us  :  the  distance  between  Baltimore  and  Washinglon  is  but 
thirty-six  miles,  yet  we  made  it  a  two  days'  journey  ;  so 
that  you  may  infer  there  was  not  much  fatigue  attending 
it.  On  Sunday  morning,  I  preached  in  the  Foundry  chapel 
in  Washington,  to  an  overflowing  congregation,  notice  hav- 
ing been  inserted  in  the  new.spapers.  Although  it  was  the 
Sabbath  of  Mr.  Ryland's  appointment  in  ordinary  to  preach 


RECEPTION   IN   AMERICA.  Ml 

before  the  Congress,  yet  in  consequence  of  his  having  en- 
gaged a  gentleman  of  the  Presbyterian  church,  early  in  the 
week,  to  supply  his  place  there  on  that  Sabbath,  before  he 
knew  of  my  coming  down,  I  had  not  that  opportunity. 
However,  there  were  about  fifty  senators  and  members  of 
the  House  of  Representatives  present,  filling  round  ahout 
the  altar  inside  and  in  the  pulpit ;  and  among  the  rest  John 
Gluincy  Adams,  secretary  of  state,  Calhoun,  secretary  of  war, 
and  others.  As  you  may  suppose,  I  directed  my  attention 
to  subvert  the  principles  of  Unitariauism,  which  have  un- 
happily found  their  way  into  Congress  through  the  ministry 

of  Mr.  S .     I  had  unusual  hberty  and  boldness,  with 

great  freedom  of  speech ;  the  Lord  stood  by  me,  and  I  shun- 
ned not  to  declare  all  the  counsel  of  God,  with  what  effect  I 
know  not ;  I  leave  that  unto  the  Lord.  Yesterday,  for  the  first 
time,  I  visited  the  Congress  :  I  received  many  marks  of  distin- 
guished attention  from  members  of  both  houses  ;  their  kind- 
ness was  very  great,  and  of  course  very  grateful  to  my  feel- 
ings as  a  stranger.  I  am  requested  to  preach  in  the  House 
of  Representatives  on  next  Sunday ;  it  is  a  most  spacious 
hall,  and  will  contain  far  more  than  the  members  of  both 
chambers." 

The  "  Metropolitan  and  Georgetown  National  Messen- 
ger" thus  describes  the  preacher  as  he  appeared  in  Dr. 
Balch's  the  Presbyterian,  church.  "  Mr.  Summerfield  is  a 
young  gentleman  of  no  ordinary  capacity,  and  his  oratorical 
powers  render  him  an  object  of  deep  and  lively  interest. 
"When  he  becomes  animated,  he  appears  as  if  the  very 
brccif kings  of  the  Sjnrit  were  on  him  ;  and  his  countenance 
is  lighted  up  with  a  fire,  bright  and  holy,  like  that  which 
ajipeared  on  Moses  at  mount  Horeb.  His  action  and  eiuui- 
ciatiou  are  chaste  ;  his  voice  is  rather  weak,  but  is  quite 
melodious,  and  its  intonations  inconceivably  line  ;  his  face 
wears  the  aspect  of  a  vouth  not  out  of  his  teens,  but  is  mod- 
est and  unassuming.     We  think  Mr.  Summerfield  is  every 


142  EEV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

way  calculated  to  do  good  in  the  vineyard  of  his  divine 
Master." 

To  suppose  that  Summerfield  vi^as  himself  iusensihle 
amidst  all  this  excitement,  would  he  absurd  :  he  must  have 
been  more  or  less  than  a  man  to  have  experienced  no  pe- 
culiar emotions  under  such  circumstances  ;  it  is  enough  to 
assert,  that  his  native  modesty  and  Christian  humility  re- 
mained luichanged.  How  properly  he  estimated  the  flatte- 
ries of  the  press — honest  and  valuable  as  they  undoubtedly 
were — may  be  inferred  from  a  pleasant  passage  in  the  letter 
about  to  be  quoted.  Addressing  Mr.  Blackstock  and  of 
course  all  the  members  of  the  family  in  New  York,  he 
writes, 

"  Annapolis,  Maryland,  March  2;),  1822. 

"  My  dear  James — I  promised  to  write  to  you  to-day, 
and  agreeably  thereto  I  sit  down  for  the  purpose.  My  last 
was  from  Georgetown,  which  place  I  left  on  Wednesday  last. 
I  suppose  I  need  not  inform  you  of  any  particulars  concern- 
ing my  stay  in  that  place  and  Washington,  as  you  have 
probably  seen  my  movements  in  the  newspapers  of  this  part 
of  the  country.  Newspaper  editors  have  not  much  to  do  at 
present,  and  therefore  any  novelty  aflbrds  them  a  subject  for 
scribbling  ;  however,  they  are  all  favorable,  extremely  so  : 
in  opposition  to  my  Newark  friend,  one  extols  my  gesture, 
as  being  truly  chaste  and  correct ;  another  speaks  of  my 
voice,  as  perfect  harmony  ;  and  another  says  that  its  intona- 
tions are  inconceivably  fine.  Dear  me,  what  will  they  say 
next  ?  I  wish  I  was  out  of  the  way  of  all  this  fussbiiss, 
and  returned  to  New  York.  I  only  mention  these  things, 
because  I  know  they  will  only  produce  in  you  the  same  efiect 
they  do  in  me — a  pleasant  smile. 

"  On  last  Sabbath  I  intended  to  have  preached  in  the 
capitol  at  Washington  ;  but  when  I  went,  the  crowd  was  so 
immense  that  I  took  my  stand  on  the  lofty  steps  in  front  of 
the  house,  and  preached  in  the  open  air.     I  cannot  tell  you 


RECEPTION   IN   AMERICA.  143 

how  many  were  assembled  on  foot,  but  the  sight  was  very 
imposing,  being  flanked  in  by  several  lines  of  carriages  filled 
with  company,  who  retained  their  seats  and  listened  with 
great  attention,  so  that  I  infer  that  I  was  heard  to  the  ex- 
tremity. The  wind  was  somewhat  in  my  face  and  rendered 
the  exertion  greater,  and  I  contracted  some  hoarseness  con- 
sequently ;  but  am  now  pretty  well. 

"  On  Monday  I  rode  to  Alexandria,  eight  miles  from 
Washington  ;  I  had  intended  to  proceed  to  Mount  Vernon, 
the  sepulchre  of  Washington's  remains,  but  having  to  preach 
that  evening  I  declined." 

The  text  upon  which  he  discoursed  from  the  platform 
at  the  eastern  front  of  the  capitol  was,  "  We  preach  Christ 
crucified,  to  the  Jews  a  stumbling-block  and  to  the  Greeks 
foolishness."  "  If  we  are  to  form  an  opinion  of  his  merits," 
says  the  Washington  City  Gazette,  "  by  his  popularity  as  a 
preacher,  the  eagerness  to  hear  him  has  scarcely  been  equal- 
led since  the  days  of  his  pious  predecessor,  George  Whit- 
field." Summerfield,  however,  was  not  well  calculated  to 
address  out-of-door  multitudes ;  in  voice  he  possessed  neither 
the  stentorian  depth  of  the  apostle  of  Georgia,  nor  the  sono- 
rous compass  of  the  founder  of  Methodism. 

He  now  turned  his  feet  homeward  ;  having  experienced, 
during  his  visit  to  the  places  above  enumerated,  unparalleled 
tokens  of  afllTtiou  ;  indeed  he  observes  in  a  note  to  his  friends, 
that  he  found  the  kindness  of  the  good  people  of  Baltimore 
"  increase  to  so  painful  a  degree,  that  I  longed  to  tear  my- 
self away  ;"  and  so  many  presents  did  he  receive  of  various 
kinds,  that  he  had  to  get  an  extra  trunk  to  contain  them. 
In  the  month  of  April  he  arrived  in  New  York,  from  which 
place,  on  the  2oth,  he  wrote  to  Mr.  Samuel  Harden  of  Balti- 
more. The  following  is  an  extract  from  the  letter,  which 
is  one  of  a  series  o{  seventeen,  addressed  by  Mr.  Summerfield 
to  this  genUenian. 

"  Oh,  that  my  gracious  Lord  would  cause  all  the  pleni- 


144  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

tilde  of  his  grace  to  abound  within  your  soul ;  it  is  yours  ; 
it  has  been  purchased,  claim  it  through  the  right  of  Jesus ; 
and  take  all  the  fulness  of  that  which  heaven  waits  to  pour 
into  the  heart  of  him  who  asks,  believing  that  he  lias  the 
very  petitions  which  he  asks  through  the  name  of  the  Advo- 
cate with  the  Father.  I  will  endeavor  to  multiply  ivonls 
at  the  throne  of  grace  in  your  behalf,  that  you  may  enjoy 

all  the  fulness  of  the  blood-bought  salvation.     Tell  K, 

she  must  take  care  that  Martha  does  not  turn  Mary  out  of 
the  house  altogether  ;  or,  in  other  words,  that  while  she  is 
so  busily  employed  in  the  missionary  cause  for  the  hoiefit 
of  oilier^,  she  must  not  neglect  the  one  thing  which  is  so 
essential  lor  licrself." 

To  Dr.   Samuel   Baker,  of  Baltimore. 

"Nkw  YouK,  April  ■2,'),  1822. 

"My  dear  Doctor — 'Hope  deferred  maketh  the  heart 
sick.'  I  trust  that  my  dear  friend  has  not  realized  this  in 
the  present  case.  Indeed,  I  would  immediately  begin  to 
apologize,  if  I  knew  that  a  moment  of  leisure  had  been 
aflbrded  previous  to  the  one  I  now  possess,  in  which  to  con- 
verse with  those  I  love.  My  time  has  been  consumed  even 
to  ashes  since  I  arrived  here ;  so  many  anniversaries,  public 
meetings,  etc  ,  that  I  have  scarcely  had  leisure  to  sleep  by 
night  or  by  day.  However,  having  now  a  breathing  time 
for  a  day  or  two,  I  have  concluded  to  write  to  you  by  way 
of  relaxation,  although  obligation  and  gratitude  imperiously 
demand  it,  even  if  no  pleasure — no  licart-fdt  pleasure,  were 
connected  with  it. 

"With  what  member  of  your  family  shall  I  commence? 
for  you  are  every  one  before  my  mind,  and  every  one  within 

my  heart.     My  precious  Mrs.  D ,  how  is  she  ?     Still 

holding  on  the  even  tenor  of  her  way?  Looking  out? 
Sometimes  inclining  to  say  with  the  Psalmist,  'Lord,  how 
long?'  or  with  an  apostle,  'I  have  a  desire  to  depart  and  to 


RECEPTION   iN   A  IIERIOA.  145 

be  with  Christ,  which  is  far  better?'  Tell  her  never  to  for- 
get that  a  thoiisa?id  years  are  with  the  Lord  as  one  day, 
and  with  him  therefore  there  is  no  delay  :  he  will  come 
quickly.  He  has  spared  her  till  supper-time,  and  will  bring 
her  down  in  a  good  old-age.  This  is  the  best  meal  in  heav- 
en— the  supper,  the  marriage  svpj^er — and  soon  may  she 
hear  Him  say,  '  Sit  dowii.^  0  that  her  heart  may  ever  re- 
alize the  expressions  of  our  poet : 

"  '  His  chariot  will  not  long  delay  ; 

I  hear  the  rumbling  wheels,  and  pray, 
Triumphant  Lord,  appear.' 

And  your  dear  partner,  my  Mrs.  Baker — 0  how  she  afflicted 
me  when  I  examined  the  token  of  aflection  which  she  gave 
me.  I  was  too  far  from  her  at  the  time  to  chide  her,  and 
since  then  my  anger  is  gone  by.  My  dear  sisters  uttered 
many  pretty  things  about  the  unknown  donor  of  their  little 
presents,  and  say  they  Avont  be  satisfietl  with  knowing  her 
name,  but  hope  to  know  her  person  also.  I  have  made  half 
a  promise  that  in  the  ensuing  spring,  if  God  permit,  I  will 
bring  one  of  them  down  to  Baltimore.  I  suppose  you  will 
hear  from  them  frequently  before  that  time.  I  can  only  say 
to  my  dear  friend,  I  thank  you  sincerely  ;  we  all  thank  you 
heartily.  But  how  poor  a  return  is  this.  But  we  will  re- 
member her  at  a  throne  of  grace,  and  when  we  meet  at  a 
throne  of  glory,  we  will  assist  her  to  tune  her  liarp  to  the 
highest  note  of  the  redeemed — higher,  and  yet  higher,  that 
she  may  vie  with  them  in  giving  glory  to  Him  who  sitteth 
upon  the  throne  and  to  the  Lamb  for  ever  and  ever. 

"And  Miss  D ,   is  she  well?     My  little  sons  and 

daughters,  how  are  they?  Tell  William  I  expect  great, 
great  things  from  him,  and  trust  he  will  not  disappoint  me. 

Remember  me  aflectionately  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  W and 

their  family.    When  any  of  you  see  poor  Mrs.  G nrJi 

Mrs.  G ,  for  she  is  an  heiress  of  the  kingdom,  give  her 

my  warmest  aflection.     Remember  me  to  Mrs.  C also. 

Smnmrrfi,  la.  7 


14G  REV.    JOHN   SU]\i:^rERFIELD. 

Thank  her  most  aflbctionately  for  her  little  treasure,  and 
say,  I  ana  sorry  she  kept  it  back  until  I  had  not  an  opportu- 
nity of  expressing  my  gratitude  in  person.  There  are  many 
other  members  of  that  family  to  whom  I  should  wish  to  be 
remembered,  but  as  you  know  them  all,  you  can  make  up 
the  deficiency." 

The  fullowing  letter  was  addressed  to  a  highly  esteemed 
friend  in  Baltimore,  who,  though  not  a  professor  of  religion, 
had  presented  Mr.  Summerfield  a  fine  coat. 

"New  Yokk,  April  26,  1822. 

"My  bear  Friend  and  Brother — Your  very  agree- 
able present,  and  the  manner  in  which  it  was  bestowed, 
will  never  be  forgotten.  It  is  the  first  'jeu  (VeiiprW  of 
the  kind  I  have  ever  met  with.  I  regret  that  it  was  not 
in  my  power  to  acknowledge  your  kindness  personally  be- 
iore  I  left  your  city ;  but  what  shall  I  now  render  to  you  for 
this  benefit  ?  I  have,  I  confess,  scarcely  any  thing  within  my 
gift.  If  I  could  transmit  to  you  the  garment  of  salvation, 
I  should  indeed  be  able  to  recompense  you  fully ;  though 
not  half  so  fully  as  if  you  received  it  from  the  Author  of 
salvation  :  this  is  a  gift  which  is  enhanced  by  the  dignity 
of  the  Giver ;  and  he  has  therefore  reserved  it  to  himself  to 
bestow  it.  This  gift,  however,  will  not  be  yours  in  the  same 
way  that  your  gift  became  mine,  for  he  requires  that  you 
shall  ask  in  order  to  receive  it,  and  has  only  promised  his 
Holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ash  him.  My  coat  indeed  becomes 
me  well ;  it-  fits  me  better  than  any  coat  I  ever  had,  and  its 
texture  is  supcrexcellent.  But,  my  dear  friend,  the  garment 
I  would  recommend  to  you  would  become  you  still  better, 
and  would  fit  and  adorn  you  more  than  any  garment  you 
ever  wore.  As  to  its  texture,  it  is  emphatically  said  to  be 
'fine' — not  comparatively  so,  but  positively  'fine;'  and  that 
alone  is  'fine,  clean,  and  white.'  I  could  have  dispensed 
with  your  present,  inasmuch  as  my  former  dre.=;s  wnnld  have 


RECETTION  IN   AMERICA.  147 

fully  answered  all  the  purposes  for  which  it  was  intended  ; 
but  my  dear  friend  cannot  dispense  with  the  jrarment  I  am 
recommending  him,  for  the  man  who  has  it  not,  will  be 
turned  out  from  the  marriage  supper  and  cast  'into  outer 
darkness.'  My  friend  went  to  great  expense  to  procure  me 
this  substance  ;  and  after  all  it  is  perishable,  as  he  will  per- 
ceive if  I  should  live  to  see  him  again.  But  the  garment  of 
salvation  is  as  new  after  fifty  years'  wear  as  on  the  first  day  : 
it  is  of  imperishable  materials  ;  and  it  will,  notwithstanding, 
be  given  'without  money  and  without  price.'  Indeed,  if 
God  were  to  fix  a  price  upon  it,  that  very  price,  no  matter 
how  great,  would  lessen  its  value.  It  is  said  of  one  of  the 
ancient  painters,  that  although  he  bestowed  immense  labor 
on  every  one  of  his  productions  in  the  fine  arts,  he  always 
gave  them  away  ;  and  being  asked  tlie  reason  of  it,  he  re- 
plied, '  They  are  above  all  price.'  This  is  indeed  the  case 
with  the  gift  of  God.  He  gives  away,  lest  his  blessings 
should  deteriorate  in  the  eyes  of  the  purchasers  by  the  value 
annexed  thereto  ;  but  although  he  gives,  ho  gives  free!  ij,  and 
is  much  more  willing  to  give  than  we  are  to  receive.  He 
bestowed  immense  labor  to  perfect  for  us  this  finished  work. 
'The  agony  and  bloody  sweat,  the  cross  and  passion,  the 
death  and  burial — the  glorious  resurrection  and  ascension, 
and  the  coming  of  the  Holy  Ghost.'  The  former  of  these, 
the  price  ;  the  latter,  the  purchase  :  and  now  he  gives  the 
Holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ask  him. 

"  '0,  Lamb  of  God,  was  ever  pain. 
Was  ever  love  like  thine!' 

"But,  my  dear  friend,  why  do  I  thus  cany  on  the  figure? 
Sufier  me  to  speak  freely,  sincerely,  lovingly,  on  this  subject. 
Wliat  is  the  cause?  Why,  amid  all  that  kindness  that  you 
ever  show,  and  delight  to  show  to  the  meanest  of  the  ser- 
vants of  my  Lord — why,  0  why  is  it,  that  you  have  not  so 
fallen  in  love  with  the  '  Altogether  Lovely,'  as  to  give  him 
full  possession  of  your  heart  ?     You  give  him  your  money  ; 


148  REV.  JOHN  SUMMERFIELD. 

you  give  your  tongue  to  speak  upon  his  goodness  ;  your  feet 
are  employed  in  tracking  the  way  to  his  sanctuary,  and  you 
delight  to  be  seated  among  the  flock  of  Christ.  But  then, 
Tjour  heart.  '0,  my  son,  my  son,'  says  God,  'give  me  thine 
heart.'  Seek  the  kingdom  of  God  Jlrst,  rather,  and"  bring 
every  other  consideration  into  a  state  of  inferiority.  Let  me 
ask  you,  my  dear  brother — for  such  I  call  you  in  anticipa- 
tion and  from  my  very  soul — is  he  not  worthy  of  your 
heart  ?  The  language  of  angels  is,  '  Thou  alone  art  worthy.' 
He  has  purchased  you  at  the  price  of  blood,  and  he  claims 
you  as  his  own.  Will  you  continue  to  resist  the  claim  ? 
Has  he  not  long  been  striving  with  you  to  yield  yourself  a 
willing  sacrifice?  Though  he  could  force,  yet  he  prefers 
submission:  he  would  honor  you  by  proposing  himself  to 
your  choice.  He  is  an  honorable  lover.  He  woos,  he  en- 
treats, he  supplicates,  he  stoops,  to  ask  your  love.  Can  you 
keep  him  out  any  longer  ?  0,  no ;  your  heart  says  no. 
Then  answer  him  this  moment : 

" '  Come  in.  come  in,  thou  heavenly  guest, 
And  never  hence  remove; 
But  sup  with  me,  and  let  the  feast 
Be  everlasting  love.' 

"0  yes,  when  you  have  once  tasted  his  love,  you  will 
want  it  to  be  everlasting.  May  the  Lord  God  encourage 
and  incline  you  in  this  pleashig  surrender,  and  may  he  hear 
my  prayers  on  your  behalf 

"  Do  let  me  hear  from  you  at  a  leisure  moment,  and  be- 
lieve me  to  be,  my  dear  friend, 

"Yours,  sincerely, 

"JOHN  SUMMERFIELD." 

The  exalted  opinion  which  the  public  entertained  of  Mr. 
Summerfield's  eloquence  at  this  time,  was  not  only  abun- 
dantly confirmed,  but  exceedingly  heightened  by  a  sermon 
which  he  preached  on  the  7th  of  May,  in  the  Reformed 
Dutch  church,  Nassau-street,  in  behalf  of  the  Now  York 


RECEPTION   IN   AMERICA.  149 

Iiistituliou  for  the  lustructioii  of  the  Deaf  and  Dumb.  The 
text  upon  which  the  discourse  was  founded,  was  Luke  6:36: 
"Be  ye  therefore  merciful,  as  your  Father  also  is  merciful ;" 
and  the  following  were  the  concluding  sentences :  although 
the  very  words  of  the  preacher,  those  only  who  heard  them 
in  that  great  congregation  can  conceive  of  the  fervor  witli 
which  they  were  uttered:  "But  I  transfer  these  children 
now  to  you.  Behold  them  ;*  they  now  stand  before  you,  as 
you  must  stand  before  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ.  Dare 
you  on  this  occasion  say, 

'• '  The  mercy  I  to  otlicrs  show, 

y 
That  mercy  show  to  me?" 

Do  you  realize  that  day  ?  You  must  stand  stripped  of  every 
earthly  treasure,  naked  before  God.  While  you  plead  for 
mercy,  cast  all  earthly  treasure  from  you  now.  These  now 
plead  with  you,  as  you  will  plead  with  God.  Hear  them. 
I  do  not  mock  you.  Silence  like  theirs  is  eloquence.  The 
hand  of  God  has  smitten  them;  but  the  stroke  which 
blasted,  consecrated  them.  Heaven  has  cast  them  on  you. 
If  you  withhold,  'tis  sacrilege.  Will  a  man  rob  God?  Are 
you  still  passing  by  on  the  other  side  ?  Still  griping,  with  a 
miser's  fist,  the  pelf  of  earth  ?  Father  of  mercies,  palsy 
not  that  hand,  wither  not  that  eye  which  can  gaze  on  these 
objects  and  not  feel  affected'.  On  me  be  the  wrong  :  I  have 
lailed  to  afiect  them — these  children  have  failed.  Thou 
canst  move  them.  0  descend,  as  with  cloven-tongues  of  fire, 
and  find  thou  an  entrance  into  every  heart.  But  I  can  no 
more."  The  sermon  being  concluded,  the  collection  was 
taken  up,  which  amounted  to  something  over  o?ie  thoiesa?icl 
dollars,  a  gold  necklace,  and  several  ri7igs.  This  sermon, 
the  only  one  ever  published  by  Mr.  Summerfield,  was  printed 

*  The  preacher  here  dropped  his  handkerchief  on  tlie  platform,  and 
i.he  objects  of  the  charity  stood  up  in  the  presence  of  the  congregatiun. 
The  effect  was  electrical. 


150  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

at  the  request  of  the  directors,  and  two  editions  sold  for  the 
benefit  of  the  institution.  It  may  be  added  that  on  the  18th 
of  April,  1822,  a  law  of  the  legislature  of  the  state  of 
New  York  was  passed,  entitled,  "An  act  to  provide  for  the 
Indigent  Deaf  and  Dumb  within  this  State  ;"  thus  transfer- 
ring the  maintenance  of  these  institutions  for  the  destitute 
from  the  charity  of  individuals  to  the  public  resources,  ru- 
ment. 


FAILUHE   OF   HIS  HEALTH.  151 


CHAPTER   XII. 

ORDAINED  DEACON— VIOLENT  ILLNESS— DICTATES  A  TESTAMEN- 
TARY PAPER- RECOVERS  SLOWLY— PUBLIC  ANXIETY- LETTERS 
—VISITS  NEW  JERSEY"— CREATED  MASTER  OF  ARTS— LETTERS. 

In  the  month  of  June,  the  Conference  of  that  section  of 
the  American  Methodist  Society  to  which  Mr.  Summerfield 
belonged,  was  held  in  the  city  of  New  York.  He  attended 
the  sittings  daily,  though  evidently  laboring  at  the  same 
time  under  indisposition.  Having  fulfilled  his  probation,  he 
was  now,  according  to  the  usage  of  the  church,  ordained 
deacon.  *  *  * 

A  few  days  after  this  ordination,  he  proceeded  with  the 
venerable  bishop  M'Kendree  to  Philadelphia ;  the  fatigue 
which  he  endured  on  this  journey — short  of  one  hundred 
miles — was  more  than  his  weak  frame  could  bear,  and  on 
his  arrival  he  was  taken  with  a  violent  hemorrhage  of  the 
lungs ;  so  severe  was  the  attack,  and  so  reducing  the  conse- 
quent treatment,  that  he  was  brought  down  to  the  verge  of 
the  grave.  On  the  11th  of  June,  he  was  given  up  by  the 
physicians,  and  it  was  thought  that  a  few  hours  would  ter- 
minate his  life.  At  this  crisis,  he  declared  himself  to  be  fully 
prepared  for  the  change  which  seemed  to  be  at  hand,  and 
said  that  he  felt  "inconceivably  happy,"  requesting  his 
brother,  who  was  present,  to  have  '-'Ills  mind  made  up." 
He  then  desired  that  his  writing-desk  might  be  placed  by 
his  side  on  the  bed,  and  although  so  feeble  that  he  could 
hardly  move  his  eye,  he  wrote  the  following  directions  with 
a  facility  truly  astonishing  : 

"  June  11,  1822.  I  the  subscriber  being  about,  as  far 
as  human  calculation  can  determine,  to  leave  this  world  for 
a  better,  being  unable  to  speak  suflicicntly  to  convey  my  last 
wishes  on  certain  malters  dependent  upon  my  death,  do 
herlfty  advise. 


152  REV.   JOHN    SUMMElLl'IELl). 

"  1.  Tliiit  my  body  be  deccully  interred  iii  Philadelphia, 
where  it  now  is,  without  pomp  or  parade. 

"  2.  That  it'  it  be  the  wisli  of"  tlie  physicians,  they  arc  at 
liberty  to  open  it  after  my  decease,  to  ascertain  the  nature 
of  my  complaint ;  this  may  serve  others  ;  and  as  1  have 
Avished  its  strength  and  vigor  to  be  devoted  for  the  good  of 
man,  T  am  willing  that  the  corpse  be  also  so  applied:  not 
desiring  either  to  live  to  myself,  or  die  to  myself 

"3.  1  have  little  efiects  remaining:  I  entered  not  into 
the  ministry  of  our  Lord  and  hlaviour  Jesus  Christ  irom 
peciuiiary  considerations,  and  had  only  a  pi-ovision  of  ibod 
and  raiment.  Owing  to  the  benevolence  of  dearly  beloved 
brother  and  sister  Blackstock,  and  my  kind  friends,  the  sum 
allowed  me  ibr  food  has  not  been  expended  ;  there  will  be 
Ibund,  therefore,  two  hundred  dollars  in  the  Vvriting-desk  in 
my  room  at  iJr.  Beekman's  iu  a  red  pocket-book  ;  this  sum 
is  iu  two  promissory  notes  of  the  Methodist  Book-concern — 
the  money  being  lodged  there  at  interest.  It  is  my  desire 
that  this  be  pi'eserved  for  my  two  sisters  Amelia  and  Anne, 
as  a  farewell  token  of  my  love  for  them  ;  to  be  received  by 
or  for  them  at  any  after-period  of  their  lives. 

"4.  I  earnestly  beseech  my  good  brother  Waldo  in  Pine- 
street,  by  all  the  love  he  ever  showed  me,  to  give  my  por- 
trait to  brotlier  and  sister  Blackstock  ;  and  1  beg  they  will 
accept  of  it  as  a  farewell  gift. 

"  5.  It  is  my  charge  that  my  pocket  volumes  of  manu- 
script sermons,  etc.,  be  retained  by  Mr.  Blackstock.  This 
charge  is  in  trust  for  either  of  my  brothers  Joseph  or  William, 
in  case  the  Lord  should  call  either  of  them  into  the  work  of 
the  ministry  ;  they  may  then  avail  themselves  of  my  labors. 

"  G.  With  regard  to  my  theological  books  and  pamphlets, 
Mr.  Blackstock  may  retain  them  for  the  same  purpose  as 
above  ;  all  my  other  books  I  give  to  Mr.  Blackstock,  as  also 
my  theological  ones,  in  case  ol'  failure  of  my  hopes  with 
regard  to  either  of  my  brothers.  A 


FAILUUK   Vi-    HIS   HEALTH.  153 

"  7.  There  is  in  the  writing-desk  in  Dr.  Beekman's,  also, 
eleven  dollars  in  notes  and  a  ten  dollar  gold  eagle  :  this  sum 
is  for  the  Young  Men's  Missionary  Society,  of  which  I  am 
president,  being  ten  dollars  from  Dr.  Bcekman  for  his  son, 
ten  dollars  from  Mr.  Bcthune,  and  one  dollar  from  Mrs. 
Wallace,  as  a  donation. 

"8.  I  owe  to  Mr.  Brown  the  tailor  eleven  dollars — " 
The  document  was  here  abruptly  broken  ofl^  at  the  re- 
quest of  his  brother,  on  perceiving  that  the  suflerer  was 
completely  exhausted  in  consequence  of  the  ellbrt  he  had 
made  to  ANrite  thus  I'ar.  The  writing  apparatus  being 
removed,  he  inunediately  fell  into  a  sound  sleep,  from  which 
he  did  not  awake  until  after  a  lapse  of  sixteen  hours.  During 
this  repose  the  natural  energy  of  his  shattered  constitution 
had  made  a  vigorous  eflbrt,  and  when  he  awoke  a  change 
for  the  better  had  evidently  taken  place.  He  continued  to 
improve  daily  ;  and  in  a  week  was  able  to  write  home  the 
Ibllowing  letter : 

"  Philadelphia,  June  18,  1822. 

"  My  DEAR  James — I  suppose  you  will  not  expect  more 

than  a  line  or  two,  when  you  sec  it  is  from  mc,  and  when 

you  know  that  I  am  writing  while  on  my  back  in  bed.     I 

still  continue  to  improve,  and  have  had  no  return  of  the 

bleeding  ;  Ellen,"  Mrs.  Blackstock,  "  says  she  is  better,  and 

will  Mrite  to-morrow.     My  father  and  she  unite  with  me  in 

love  to  you  and  William  and  my  dear  Amelia  and  Anne. 

The  Lord  bless  you  all. 

"J.  SUMMERFIELD.-' 

Such  was  the  intense  solicitude  which  the  report  of  Mr. 
Suminerfield's  illness  produced  in  Philadelphia  and  else- 
where, that  notices  resembling  bulletins,  announcing  his  con- 
valescence, were  published  in  the  newspapers.  One  of  them 
observes,  "  There  is  no  better  proof  of  the  lofty  estimation 
in  which  this  gentleman's  character  and  talents  are  held, 
than  the  intense  anxiety  which  has  been  manifested  for  his 

7* 


154  REV.   JOHN    SUMMERFIELD. 

recov'^ery.  We  recollect  no  instance  of  the  kind  in  which 
public  sympathy  has  been  so  warmly  engaged,  or  in  which 
the  danger  of  one  individual  has  produced  so  lively  a  sensa- 
tion upon  the  general  mind."  *  *  =* 

The  following,  addressed  to  an  esteemed  friend  who  had 
Avritten  him  from  her  sick  chamber,  illustrates  his  power  of 
administering  consolation  to  the  afflicted. 

To  Mrs.  Suokley. 

"  ruiLADELPniA,  July  30,  1822. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Suckley  vi'ill  have  almost  given  up  all 
expectation  of  hearing  from  jne  again ;  '  hope  deferred 
maketh  the  heart  sick,'  but  as  this  kind  of  sickness  is  not 
unto  death,  I  now  send  yoti  a  recipe  for  its  complete  cure, 
and  that  is,  '  E-ead  this  letter,  thank  the  Father  of  mercies 
that  all  is  so  well,  and  close  by  a  prayer  for  the  writer.' 

"  Your  very  welcome  favor  pained,  as  well  as  pleased  ; 
it  was  written  from  a  sick  chamber  :  this  I  should'  have 
known  from  the  perfume  it  brought  with  it,  even  though  you 
had  been  silent  on  the  subject.  0  what '  fruits  of  righteous- 
ness' do  these  afflictions  yield.  I  have  just  finished  a  meal 
on  peaches,  but  their  odor  is  lost  when  put  in  competition 
with  that  fragrance.  .  Some  of  the  choicest  plants  of  God's 
right  hand's  planting  never  give  forth  their  odor  with  half 
their  sweets,  till  he  presses  them  with  his  afflicting  hand ; 
and  hence  the  world  has  always  been  filled  with  the  rich 
perfumes  of  his  suflering  saints.  May  you  ever  be  counted 
'  M^orthy  to  sufier,'  remembering  that  this  also  is  the  gift  of 
God;  for  '  unto  you  it  is  given  in  the  behalf  of  Christ,  not 
only  to  believe,  but  also  to  sufler.'  Keep  in  view  the 
'  ETERNAL  WEIGHT  OF  GLORY,'  and  then  you  will  reckon 
'that  these  liglit  afflictions,  which  are  but /or  a  moment, 
are  not  worthy  to  be  compared  therewith.' 

"  With  regard  to  myself,  if  indeed  it  is  worth  while  to 
say  any  thing  of  one  who  appears  to  be  laid  out  of  sight, 
like  useless  scafiblding,  I  am  in  better  health  than  I  have 


FAILURE   OF   HIS   HKALill.  155 

been  since  I  left  you ;  I  trust  I  recover  a  little  and  a  little 
from  day  to  day,  except  when  I  suffer  those  drawbacks  to 
which  all  persons  in  my  poor  state  are  subject,  and  which 
cannot  be  traced  to  any  assignable  cause.  I  do  not  recover 
fast,  but  I  hope  it  may  be  the  more  sure  :  I  neither  run,  nor 
walk,  nor  creep  :  I  crawl;  and  like  the  poor  snail,  carry  my 
tabernacle  along  so  slowly,  that  I  '  often  groan,  being  bur- 
dened.' Were  it  not  for  this  burden,  how  soon  should  I  be 
with  you  ;  perhaps  you  doubt  this,  and  rather  suppose  that 

then 

••  '•  My  soul  would  soar  away, 

And  mingle  with  the  blaze  of  day.' 

Still,  however,  I  trust  I  should  often  be  permitted  to  accom- 
pany the  angels  who  are  hovering  around  you,  and  perhaps 
privileged  to  be  one  of  the  ministering  spirits  to  an  heir  of 
salvation. 

"  Much,  much  have  I  desired  to  see  you,  but  that  seems 
further  off  than  before.  My  physicians  had  a  meeting  yester- 
day morning,  and  strongly  advised  me  to  give  up  the  idea  of 
returning  to  New  York  for  three  or  four  weeks  ;  the  reasons 
tliey  assigned  convinced  me  of  the  propriety  of  this  measure, 
although  from  their  medical  character  I  could  not  easily 
impress  you  with  them. 

"  Ever  your  truly  affectionate  friend, 

'=  JOHN  SUMJIERFIELD." 

Mr.  Summcrfield  recovered  so  slowly,  that  in  one  of  his 
letters  he  says  concerning  his  health,  "  I  begin  to  entertain 
serious  apprehensions  it  will  improve  no  more.  I  thiidf  I 
have  the  prospect  of  a  lingering  decline,  not  unlike  that  of 
my  dear  mother.  I  wish  I  could  add,  that  I  had  also  tlic 
prospect  of  the  same  triumphant  end.  On  this  subject  I  am 
very  low."  At  the  recommendation  of  Dr.  Physic,  and  in 
the  hope  of  salutary  eflects  from  the  air  and  water  of  New 
Mills,  he  took  a  journey  to  Jersey.  His  health,  however, 
improved  "  but  slowly  ;"'  and  in  a  letter  from  Burlington, 


156  REX.  JOHN    SUMMliRFIELD. 

dated  August,  1622,  he  speaks  of  his  stale  in  these  meas- 
ured terms :  "  My  health  is  not  worse  tliau  when  1  last  wrote 
to  you,  but  I  think  I  may  say  it  is  somewhat  improved." 

His  allectionate  and  sensitive  raiiid  Avas  at  this  time  ex- 
posed to  an  exi)eriment  of  a  very  ))aiul'ul  kind,  by  the  tidings 
of  the  death  of  an  eminent  physician,  Avhom  he  greatly 
loved,  and  whose  house  used  to  be  Mr  Sumrnertield's  home, 
when  in  Baltimore.  In  a  letter  dated  from  Burlington,  19th 
of  August,  he  says,  "On  Saturday  I  received  the  distressing 
news  that  my  dear  friend  Dr.  Baker  of  Baltimore  is  an 
inhabitant  oi'  another  world.  You  know  he  wrote  two  let- 
ters to  me  during  my  illness,  and  was  then  in  perfect  healtli : 
at  that  time  I  was,  as  you  saw  me,  hanging  between  time 
and  eternity,  insomvich  that  the  letters  were  kept  from  me  ; 
yet  how  soon  is  the  scene  changed  :  he  is  laid  low,  and  I  am 
spared.  Gracious  God,  how  mysterious  are  thy  providences.^ 
I  know  not  why  1  Avas  spared,  for  truly  I  am  an  improfitable 
piece  of  lumber,  a  burden  to  my  friends  and  to  myself.  0 
that  the  design  for  wliich  I  have  been  spared  may  have  its 
full  accomphshrnent  in  me."  This  report  turned  out  to  be 
unfounded  ;  Dr.  Baker  had  indeed  been  near  death,  but 
recovered.  What  had  been  the  exercises  and  temper  of  Mr. 
Summerfield's  spirit  on  this  occasion,  and  how  sincerely  he 
rejoiced  in  the  restoration  of  one  of  his  best  friends,  will 
appear  from  the  following  tender  letter. 

'■  Burlington,  August  21,  1822. 

"  My  dear,  doukly  dear  Doctor — "While  I  write  to  you, 
1  scarcely  believe  myself  awake  ;  it  seems  a  pleasant  dream. 
To  me,  you  are  as  one  risen  from  the  dead.  On  Saturday 
last  1  heard  that  Dr.  Baker  was  no  more.  I  wept — I  pray- 
ed— I  painted  the  whole  picture  of  his  bereaved  family  before 
my  mind  ;  and  often  have  I  put  the  question  to  myself  since 
that  time,  what  will  become  of  the  fatherless  children  ? 
'Tis  true,  I  had  some  cordial  in  the  cup,  for  I  anticipated 
that  my  dear  friend  departed  in  the  full  triumph  of  faith ;  I 


FAILURE    OF   HIS   HEALTH.  157 

lancied  the  I'eelings  of  the  moment  Avheii  tlie  last  thread  was 

eut,  and  he 

"  '  Clapt  his  glad  wings  and  soared  away, 
To  mingle  with  the  blaze  of  day  ;' 

and  under  these  views  I  had  said,  '  Their  loss  is  his  infinite 
gain.'     But  again,  I  had  thought  of  the  bereaved  partner, 

and  poor  Mrs.  D and  E ,  and  I  wished  I  was  in 

Baltimore,  yet  dared  not  trust  myself  to  bear  the  scene.  But 
my  friend  lives  ;  glory,  glory  be  to  God.  I  am  revived  ;  my 
spirits  have  risen,  all  is  well.  0,  my  dear  doctor,  I  am 
partly  beside  myself  and  know  not  what  to  write  ;  but  I 
shall  recover  myself,  and  iny  Father  which  is  in  heaven 
must  be  the  only  witness  of  the  feelings  which  now  throb  in 
my  heart. 

"  '  I'll  praise  him  while  he  lends  me  breath.' 

"And  now  that  I  have  received  my  dear  friend  again 
from  the  dead,  now  that  Lazarus  has  risen,  after  being  four 
days  in  the  grave,  shall  the  love  of  Martha  or  of  Mary  ex- 
ceed the  gratitude  which  I  should  feel  ?  And  will  not  my 
dear  friend  join  me  in  tliis,  that  He  whose  word  maketh 
whole,  hath  a  right  to  all  the  revived  powers  we  now  pos- 
sess ?  We  are  similarly  circumstanced,  and  shall  we  not  be 
similarly  excited?  'While  1  live,  I  will  praise  the  Lord. 
I  will  praise  him  as  long  as  I  have  any  being.'  And  will 
not  dear  Dr.  Baker  take  up  the  same  resolution  ?  Oh,  help 
me  to  praise  the  Lord.  I  am  lost,  lost,  lost  in  goodness  ; 
I  am  out'  of  depth.     It  is  past  finding  out. 

"Will  not  my  dear  friend  join  me  in  this  entire  consecra- 
tion of  my  renewed  existence  ?  Come  now,  say  the  words — 
I  feel  them  ;  and  may  our  common  Loi'd  accept  the  sacri- 
fice we  now  make  : 

"  '  If  so  poor  a  worm  as  I 
May  to  thy  great  glory  live, 
All  my  actions  sanctify, 
All  my  words  and  thoughts  receive ; 


158  REV.   JOHN  SUMMERFIELD. 

Claim  me  for  thy  service;  claim 
All  I  have,  and  all  I  am. 
Now  my  God,  thine  own  I  am ; 
Now  I  give  thee  back  thine  own  : 
Freedom,  friends,  and  health  and  fame, 
Consecrate  to  thee  alone : 
Thine  I  live;  thrice  happy  I — 
Happier  still,  if  thine  to  die.' 

"  Now  arc  we  sanctified — set  apart  to  God.  Oh  for  a 
greater  measure  of  the  influence  of  the  sanctifying  blood. 
It  is  yours ;  it  is  all  yours,  and  it  is  all  mi7ie.  May  we 
ever  wash  and  be  kept  clean  till  the  day  of  eternal  redemp- 
tion. 

"  My  health  is  recovering,  but  at  present  it  is  a  pain  to 
me  to  write,  having  at  this  moment  a  tartar  plaster  on  my 
breast  to  create  an  artificial  sore.  This  must  excuse  the 
scrawl  I  send  you,  which  I  query  if  you  will  be  able  to  read. 
Remember  me  very  affectionately  to  Mrs.  Baker;  I  have 
for  some  days  offered  up  this  petition  for  her :  '0  my  Lord, 
be  thou  the  husband  of  this  widow ;  marry  her  to  thyself 
The  former  clause  may  now  want  a  little  alteration,  but  I 
trust  she  would  make  none  in  the  latter.  Oh  that  she  may 
ever  choose  the  Lord  as  her  spiritual  head,  maintain  her 
garments  pure,  that  she  may  be  worthy  of  a  seat  at  the 

marriage  supper  of  the  Lamb.     I  trust  that  Mrs.  D 

has  had  frequent  opportunities  of  proving,  during  your  late 
illness,  the  faithfulness  of  that  promise,  'As  thy  day  is,  so 
shall  thy  strength  be.'  Tell  her  I  often  connect  her  with 
myself  in  these  words,  which  raise  my  heart  on  many  occa- 
sions : 

"  '  Our  sufferings  here  will  soon  be  past, 
And  you  and  I  ascend  at  last 
Triumphant  with  our  Head.' 

"  Present  my  kind  regard  to  E ,  and  my  love  to  all 

the  little  ones.  Oh  that  the  Lover  of  little  children  may 
gather  all  your  little  ones  as  a  hen  gathers  her  chickens 


FAILURE   OF   HIS  HEALTH.  159 

uuder  her  wings.     Remember  me  to  Mr.  \Y ,  and  to 

any  who  inquire  about  me.     Farewell,  farewell ;  my  pain 
tells  me  I  must  conclude.     To  God  I  commend  you  all. 

"J.  SUMMEILFIELD.-' 

#  *  *  His  visit  to  New  Jersey  brought  him  into  con- 
tact with  several  gentlemen  connected  with  Pi'inceton  Col- 
lege ;  and  the  Senatus  Academicus  of  this  institution  maiai- 
fested  their  sense  of  the  talents  and  worth  of  Mr.  Summer- 
field  by  creating  him  a  Master  of  Arts.  *  *  * 

The  following  letter  to  an  intimate  friend,  who  had  re- 
cently found  Christ  to  be  precious,  breathes  the  full  heart 
of  Summerfield. 

To   Mr.  William  M.  WiUelt. 

'■  rniLADELPiiiA,  Sept.  22,  1822. 

"  My  DEAE.EST  William — Think  not  for  one  moment,  I 
beseech  you,  that  in  all  my  long  silence  since  we  parted, 
there  was  ever  any  other  feeling  in  my  heart  towards  you 
than  unbounded  anxiety  for  your  welfare.  I  thank  God 
that  I  have  often  good  remembrance  of  you  in  my  prayers 
by  night  and  by  day  ;  and  up  to  this  moment,  my  heart's 
desire  and  prayer  for  you  is,  that  you  may  stand  complete 
in  all  the  will  of  God.  Circumstances,  however,  over  which 
I  had  no  control,  and  a  series  of  complex  afflictions  rolling 
over  me  like  so  many  billows,  have  conspired  to  retard  my 
writing  to  you  ;  and  even  now  I  venture  on  it  in  a  situation 
as  distressing  as  ever,  having  a  blister  across  my  breast  at 
this  very  moment.  Still,  and  although  forbidden  to  wi'ite, 
I  have  ventured  to  assure  you  in  this  manner,  even  were  it 
but  in  half  a  dozen  lines,  that  I  love  and  esteem  you,  and 
hold  myself  sacredly  bound  to  watch  over  your  spiritual 
interest  for  good. 

"  And  is  it  so,  my  dear  AYilliam,  that  your  mouth  has 
been  opened  on  the  behalf  of  Him  whose  heart  was  opened 
by  the  soldier's  spear  for  you  ?  What  shall  I  say  ?  I  am 
lost  in  wonder,  love,  and  praise.     May  the  Lord  give  you 


160  REV.   JUllN    SUMMEilFlKLD. 

the  tongue  of  the  learned,  that  you  may  speak  a  word  in 
season  in  his  great  name.  And  all  this  change  within  a 
year — a  little  year.  My  own  heart  cries  out,  What  shall  / 
render  unto  the  Lord  ibr  all  his  benefits  towards  you  ? 

"  'I  '11  praise  him  while  he  lends  me  breath; 
And  when  my  voice  is  lost  in  death, 

Praise  shall  employ  my  nobler  powers  : 
My  days  of  praise  shall  ne'er  be  past, 
While  life  and  thought  and  being  last, 
Or  immortality  endures.' 

'■'  When  I  last  wrote  to  Bishop  M'Kendrec,  I  communi- 
cated to  him  the  pleasing  intelligence  of  what  the  Lord  had 
done  for  you,  and  he  rejoices  with  me  for  the  consolation. 

"But  Oh,  my  dear  William,  if  my  anxieties  were  ever 
directed  to  you,  they  are  increased  now  a  hundred-fold.  '  I 
long  to  be  with  you  now,  and  change  my  voice.'  '  I  am 
jealous  over  you  with  a  godly  jealousy.'  You  have  begun 
well ;  but  Oh,  my  William,  there  is  an  end,  as  well  as  a 
beginning.  Oh  that  I  could  but  sec  the  end  of  your  course. 
I  am  ambitious  for  you  be^'oud  measure,  that  you  may  walk 
worthy  of  Him  who  has  called  you  unto  hi.s  kingdom  and 
glory.  Is  your  eye  upon  the  goal  ?  Do  you  frequently  an- 
ticipate that  welcome  sound,  '  Well  done,  well  done,  good 
and  faithful  servant ;  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord  ?' 
Do  you  frequently  realize  the  end  of  your  race  in  the  words 
of  him  who  was  faithful  unto  death :  '  I  have  fought  the 
good  fight,  I  have  fmished  my  course,  I  have  kept  the  faith?' 
If  this  would  not  be  the  issue,  I  declare  to  you,  my  dear 
William,  with  all  my  aflectiou  for  you,  I  would  prefer  to 
follow  you  to  your  grave  now,  in  the  bloom  of  life,  while 
you  bear  the  mark  of  Him,  '  whose  you  now  are,  and  whom 
you  now  serve.'  Pardon  me  for  thus  expressing  my  anxiety  ; 
I  am  not  afraid  of  you,  if  you  keep  your  eye  upon  the  Captain 
of  our  salvation.  Never  take  it  off  for  a  moment  to  look 
upon  the  multitude  who  may  hail  you  with  their  plaudits, 


FAILURE   OF   HIS  HEALTH.  161 

but  with  steady  step  urge  on  your  course,  '  lookinjr  unto 
Jesus  '  If  the  bubble  of  human  applause  follow  you,  thank 
God  for  it.  It  may  make  your  word  the  more  successful ; 
but  never  do  you  follow  the  bubble ;  you  will  lose  your 
time,  and  perhaps  your  soul  too.  Live  for  eternity  ;  and  in 
reference  to  this  only,  follow  after  glory,  and  honor,  and  im- 
mortality and  eternal  life. 

"But,  my  dear  William,  don't  suppose  that  your  only 
danger  lies  here ;  you  will  not  always  find  the  path  strewed 
witli  flowers.  Branches  of  palm-trees  will  not  always  be 
cast  in  your  Avay,  nor  the  cries  of  the  multitude,  'Hosanna 
in  the  highest,'  accompany  you  to  the  temple  of  the  Lord. 
Think  it  not  strange  if  these  same  voices  should  sometimes 
exclaim,  'Crucify  him,  crucify  him.'  Remember,  the  ser- 
vant is  not  greater  than  his  Lord  ;  and  if  these  things  have 
been  done  to  him,  be  not  surprised  if  you  are  called  to  walk 
in  his  footsteps  ;  yea,  count  it  all  joy,  and  rejoice  in  that  you 
are  counted  worthy  to  sufler  shame  for  the  sake  of  him  who 
loveth  you.  You  may  be  evil  spoken  of;  many  mouths  will 
now  be  opened,  and  your  motives  and  actions  may  be  mis- 
construed;  some,  perhaps,  whom  you  now  call  'brethren,' 
may  deal  deceitfully  with  you  ;  clouds  and  darkness  may 
thicken  about  your  path  ;  and  Satan,  who  delights  to  fish 
in  troubled  waters,  may  tempt  you  to  draw  back,  and  sug- 
gest that  you  have  deceived  yourself;  but  Oh,  \Yilliani,  let 
none  of  these  things  move  you.  Endure  hardness  as  a  good 
soldier.  Sufler  no  man  to  despise  your  youth  ;  allow  no 
opportunity  for  scandalizing  you  by  word  or  deed ;  be  kind, 
humble,  loving  to  all ;  be  gentle  even  to  the  froward,  and 
put  on  the  spirit  of  meekness.  In  every  satanic  temptation 
Jly  to  the  throne  of  grace  ;  never  reason  one  moment  with 
the  enemy ;  appeal  to  God  in  your  closet  for  the  sincerity 
of  your  intentions ;  keep  clean  hands  and  a  pure  heart,  and 
God  will  put  Satan  under  your  feet,  and  give  you  the  tinal 
victory.     Oh,  William,  'keep  that  which  is  committed  to 


162  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

thy  trust.'     Fare  thee  well.     Write  to  me  speedily,  and  be 

assured  of  the  prayers  and  afiection  of  your  fellow-servant 

in  the  kingdom  and  patience  of  Jesus. 

'^J.  SUMMERFIELD." 

In  the  month  of  October,  Mr.  Summerfield  once  more 
embraced  his  family  and  friends  in  New  York.  From  that 
city  he  wrote  the  following  letter  to  his  youngest  sister,  then 

on  a  visit  at  R .     The  spirit  of  fraternal  affection  which 

breathes  through  every  line,  must  render  any  apology  for 
its  introduction  imneccssary. 

"  New  York,  October  SI,  1822. 

"  My  DEAR  Anne — If  you  are  as  anxious  to  receive  a 
letter  from  us  as  we  are  to  see  you  again,  you  must  be  very 
impatient  indeed.  I  have  undertaken  to  write  to  you  my- 
self, and  I  really  am  vain  enough  to  think  you  would  rather 
receive  a  letter  from  me  than  any  of  the  family  besides. 

"  I  had  anticipated  for  a  long  time  the  pleasure  of  pay- 
ing a  visit  to  H ,  but  one  thing  after  another  occurred 

to  prevent  me,  so  that  I  now  despair  of  accomphshing  my 
wishes  in  this  respect.  However,  as  I  do  not  expect  to  sail 
for  the  West  Indies  before  the  middle  of  next  month,  I  hope 

to  see  you  here,  as  I  suppose  you  will  be  frozen  out  of  H 

before  that  time. 

"  I  trust  that  my  dear  Anne  conducts  herself  in  all  re- 
spects worthy  of  her  brother,  and  increases  daily  in  favor 
with  God  and  man.  You  know  I  often  talk  of  you  as  a 
child  of  my  own  rearing ;  therefore,  never  bring  my  glory 
to  shame.  Fear  God  and  keep  his  commandments  ;  do  not 
neglect  any  seasons  of  private  prayer  which  present  them- 
selves, but  call  upon  the  Lord  every  day  while  you  have 
any  being. 

'"A  flower,  when  ofiered  in  the  bud, 
Is  no  mean  sacrifice.' 

"  I  have  full  confidence  in  my  dear  Anne,  that  she  will 

do  even  more  than  I  say.     Never  let  a  day  pass  without 


FAILURE   OF   HIS  HEALTH.  163 

reading  a  porliou  of  God's  word  ;  so  you  shall  be  made  wise 
unto  salvation,  and  dwell  with  me  and  your  elder  brother 
the  Lord  Jesus,  for  ever  and  ever. 

"All  that  I  have  said  to  y^ou  applies  to  my  dear  Catha- 
rine also.  Give  her  my  best  love,  and  tell  her  she  must  be 
in  this  respect  of  one  heart  and  one  mind  with  you,  tha:t  so 
your  intimacy  may  be  continued  in  heaven,  after  each  of 
you  have  bid  adieu  to  every  earthly  scene.  Oh,  my  dear 
Anne,  think  often  on  these  things  ;  converse  frequently  with 
death  and  the  grave  ;  and  pray  to  Him  who  tasted  death 
for  you,  to 

"  '  Teach  you  to  live,  that  you  may  dread 
The  grave  as  little  as  your  bed.' 

"  I  have  had  a  peep  into  the  grave  lately,  and  assure 
you  it  is  not  so  dark  as  fallen  nature  views  it  with  the  eye 
of  sense. 

"Remember  me  ailectionately  to  Mrs.  S ,  M , 

and  S ;  also  to  Mr.,  Mrs.,  and  Miss  G ,  and  thank 

them  very  cordially  for  their  kind  wishes  that  I  should  come 
to  li .  I  fear  they  would  have  spoiled  me  Avith  extrav- 
agant kindness,  if  indeed  that  is  not  already  done. 

"  Farewell,  my  dear  Anne  ;  bt;  good,  and  you  will  be 
happy. 

"  Your  loving  and  afleclionate 

'^  JOHN.-' 

The  two  lollowing  cliaracteristic  letters  were  addres.sed 
to  a  respected  friend  and  i)hysic-ian  in  Baltimore,  whose 
kindness  to  Mr.  Suuunerheld  in  his  recent  illness  in  tliat 
city,  deeply  aliected  his  heart. 

To  Doctor  Thomas  Sargent. 

'•  New  Yoek,  Oct.  25,  1922. 

"  My  dear  Doctor — It  seems  an  age  since  I  left  you, 
•ind  indeed  I  can  hardly  convince  myself  that  it  is  no  more 
than  two  little  \\'eeks.  1  have  been  favored  lor  so  long  a 
lime  with  a  daily  visit  Irom  you,  after  I  had  been  previously 


164  REV.  JOHN  SUMMERl'JELD. 

conversant  with  yon  face  to  face  almost  all  the  day  long 
while  in  tlie  bosom  of  your  family,  that  I  sensibly  feel  my 
loss.  Indeed,  it  is  no  great  wonder  if  my  spirits  flag  in  the 
course  of  the  forenoon,  when  I  have  no  prospect,  as  hereto- 
fore, of  a  visit  from  one  whose  presence  generally  revived 
me  like  a  cordial,  when  in  the  most  melancholy  mood.  How- 
ever, I  do  feel  a  momentary  relief  when  conversing  with  you 
by  a  letter  ;  the  distance  between  us  appears  to  be  overcome, 
and  I  can  almost  faircy  myself  in  my  lovely  chamber  at  the 
house  of  my  estimable  friends  in  Eighth-street.  My  dream, 
however,  will  be  as  short  as  it  is  illusory  ;  and  when  I  wake 
up  from  my  reverie  and  seal  my  sheet,  I  shall  again  find 
myself  alone. 

"  You  will  readily  conclude,  my  dear  doctor,  that  the 
megrims  have  taken  hold  of  me ;  but  not  so.  The  time  of 
separation  from  my  friends  is  drawing  near,  and  the  nearer 
it  approaches  the  greater  coward  do  I  discover  myself  to  be. 
At  a  distance  of  time  from  the  afflicting  moment,  1  was  all 
buckram  and  swagger  about  my  West  Indies  adventures. 
I  dipped  the  liveliest  pencil  of  my  imagination  in  the  colors 
of  the  rainbow,  and  painted  many  an  animating  picture  ;  but 
now  the  rainbow  is  vanished,  and  blackness  and  gloom  have 
spread  over  every  line  1  drew.  My  feelings  when  I  first 
approached  the  shores  of  these  favored  states  were  not  to  be 
described.  I  rejoiced  in  hope.  But  then  I  had  no  friend- 
ships formed,  no  other  loves  had  mingled  with  my  own,  all 
was  untried  ;  but  now,  how  changed  the  scene.  So  soon  to 
be  driven  from  the  fond  embrace  of  those  who  '  received  me 
as  an  angel  of  God,  yea,  as  Christ  Jesus,'  from  those  who 
would  have  plucked  out  their  own  eyes  and  given  them  to 
me.  Oh,  doctor,  it  is  too  much.  Forgive  me  if  I  pause  a 
while. 

"  But  come,  we  shall  meet  again.  We  will  not  sorrow 
as  those  who  have  no  hope.  All  will  be  well.  To  live  is 
Christ,  to  die  is  gain  ;  living  or  dying  we  are  the  Lord's. 


FAILURE    OF   HIS   HEALTH.  1G5 

Look  up,  there  rcmainctli  a  rest — Oh,  the  rest,  the  re$t.' 
There  the  inhabitants  no  more  say,  '  I  am  sick.'  God  bless 
you,  my  dear,  dear  doctor ;  your  love  to  me  was  wonderful. 
May  my  Lord  do  that  for  you  which  I  am  too  poor  to  do, 
reward  you  a  hundred,  a  thousand  fold.  God  bless  you  and 
all  your  house. 

"  I  know  not  where  this  strain  would  lead  me.  It  makes 
me  play  the  woman  ;  but  Jesus  wept  at  parting  with  his 
friend,  even  in  the  full  prospect  of  an  immediate  reunion. 
"With  me  that  is  uncertain  ;  but  we  will  hope  :  'we  are  saved 
by  hope.'  And  now,  my  dear  doctor,  pray  for  me,  that  I 
may  be  restored  to  you  by  the  will  of  G  od,  and  that  we  may 
yet  have  joy  together,  according  to  the  days  wherein  we  have 
had  sorrow.     Farewell. 

"  Your  aflectionate  friend, 

'•JOHN  SUMMERFIELD." 

To   the   same. 

«  New  York,  6th  Dec,  1822. 

"  My  dear  Doctor — It  is  probable  I  may  take  my  pas- 
sage in  a  vessel  to  sail  in  about  ten  days  for  Leghorn  in 
Italy  ;  this  would  bring  me  immediately  into  a  warm  lati- 
tude. Instead  of  going  to  Havre  in  the  north  of  France,  and 
thence  proceeding  southward,  with  the  prospect  of  measuring 
the  same  ground  back  again  in  the  approaching  spring,  I 
should  now  go  directly  south,  and  advance  northward  through 
France  as  the  cuckoo  shall  invite,  and  the  bud  of  vegetation 
expand  from  one  degree  of  latitude  to  another.  We  should 
remain  four  or  five  days  at  Gibraltar,  aiul  expect  to  arrive 
in  Italy  about  1st  February. 

"  Although  I  cannot  say  concerning  myself  what  the 
Almiirhty  said  to  Job  concerning  the  war-horse,  'he  swal- 
loweth  the  groiuid'  in  his  intcnsciiess  for  the  goal  of  desti- 
nation, and  makes  no  account  of  all  the  space  between,  yet 
I  have  often  rambled  on  the  classic  soil,  and  tramped  the 
pathway  to  the  Three  Taverns,  where  Paul  discovered  that 


IGG  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

Jesns  Christ  had  been  in  Kome  before  him,  thanked  God, 
and  took  courage. 

"  But  you  will  think  me  too  sentimental  if  I  say  more  ; 
suffice  it  that  my  mind,  amidst  all  the  pleasurable  scenes 
which  fancy  paints  before  it,  fixes  upon  none  with  half  the 
intensity  that  it  rests  upon  the  picture  of  its  return  ;  it  is 
only  this  that  reconciles  it  to  a  temporary  remove  :  the 
scenes  of  France  and  Italy  exist  but  in  my  imagination, 
but  otlicr  scenes  have  left  an  indent  upon  my  lieart. 

"  Please  make  my  respects  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  C .     I 

received  the  letter  Mr.  C was  kind  enough  to  forward 

me  by  J ,  but  without  seeing  him ;    I  vmderstand  he 

passed  on  the  same  day.  If  matters  of  business  were  the 
cause  of  his  speedy  departure  I  could  scarcely  excuse  him, 
as  none  but  a  royal  courier  need  be  so  expeditious  :  '  the 
King's  business  is  urgent ;'  but  being  able  to  account  for  it 
on  the  '  principles  of  attraction,'  and  those  being  a  part  of 
the  laAv  of  nature,  I  felt  quite  reconciled. 

"  What  has  become  of  Thomas  ?  Does  he  keep  his  resi- 
dence continually  on  mount  Parnassus  among  the  demi-gods 
of  Greek  and  Roman  origin  ?  If  you  ever  see  him,  if  he 
occasionally  visits  the  '  vale  below,'  tell  him  that  I  should 
be  glad  if  he  could  obtain  a  dispensation  from  Messrs.  Homer 
and  A''irgil  for  a  little  time  to  Avrite  a  line  or  two  at  least. 
My  best  respects  to  Mrs.  Sargent,  etc.,  etc, 
"  Believe  me  ever 

"  Your  afi'ecticnate  friend. 

"J.  SUMMERFIELD."' 

To  Doctor,   late   Bishop,   Emory. 

"  New  York,  Dec.  19,  1822. 

"My  dear  Brother.  Emory — Your  truly  affectionate 
letter  came  to  hand  and  was  indeed  a  treasury  of  comfort 
and  consolation,  under  the  severe  stroke  which  had  been 
applied  in  the  tcnderest  part  in  which  the  providence  of  God 
could  have  afflicted  me.     But  my  dear,  my  only  parent  still 


FAILURE    OF   HIS   HEALTH.  167 

lives.  He  lives  to  ask  for  blessings  on  his  child.  I  have 
been  Benoni  in  time  past,  but  now  he  calls  me  Benjamin. 
Oh,  that  I  may  not  only  be  the  son  of  his  right  hand,  but 
held  as  a  star  in  the  right  hand  of  Him  ivho  illumi^iates 
the  churches.  My  dear  father  is  fast  recovering  ;  his  limbs 
have  resumed  their  vigor,  and  his  speech  is  gradually,  though 
slowly  improving.  My  mind  is  now  at  rest :  if  he  live,  I 
know  he  Avill  live  unto  the  Lord ;  and  if  he  die,  I  have  full 
assurance  he  will  die  unto  him  ;  life  or  death  is  gain.  I 
sincerely  sympathize  with  you  in  your  loss,*  her  gain  :  and 
yet  why  mourn  we  ?  '  How  happy  are  the  faithful  dead.' 
If  we  beheve  that  Jesus  died  and  rose  again,  even  so  them 
also  which  sleep  in  Jesus  will  God  bring  with  him.  Com- 
fort we  one  another  with  these  words,  not  only  in  the  loss 
of  relatives  and  friends,  but  in  prospect  of  our  approaching 
change ;  for  though 

'An  angel's  hand  can't  snatch  us  from  the  grave, 
Legions  of  angels  can't  confine  us  there.' 

Thanks  be  to  God,  who  giveth  us  the  victory  through  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

To  Mr.   Thomas   B.   Sargent. 

"  New  York,  Dec.  22,  1822. 

"  My  dear  Thojias — This  letter  will  announce  to  you 
my  departure  to  a  foreign  and  far-distant  shore.  To-mor- 
row, and  I  am  gone.  This  cannot,  I  am  sure,  be  matter  of 
grief  to  my  friend.  Your  eye  will  pierce  the  cloud  which 
envelopes  this  dispensation  of  Providence,  and  you  will  see 
all  things  working  together  for  good.  Now  that  I  am  at 
last  gone,  you  will  begin  to  anticipate  my  return.  I  regret 
that  it  is  not  in  my  power  to  antedate  the  months,  and  thus 
accelerate  even  the  rapid  flight  of  time  :  but  if  we  continue 
to  pray  for  one  another,  and  that  without  ceasing,  many  a 
long  and  otherwise  tedious  term  will  be  overcome  ;  for  the 

*  Alluding  to  fhp  dfath  of  Mr.  Emory's  mother. 


1G8  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

words  of  the  poet  will  apply  to  the  fleet n ess  as  well  as  siveet- 
ness  of  the  moments  thus  employed.  Taking  the  liberty, 
therefore,  to  alter  the  first  word  of  the  stanza,  let  us  sing, 

'  Swift  the  moments,  rich  in  blessing, 
Which  before  the  cross  we  spend.' 

Meet  me  there,  my  dear  friend,  day  by  day ;  let  us  blend 
our  prayers  together,  and  may  our  common  Lord  fill  us  with 
like  precious  faith,  like  glorious  hope,  like  perfect  love. 

"  When  I  call  to  remembrance  the  unfeigned  faith  which 
dwelt  first  in  thy  father  and  mother,  and  I  am  persuaded  in 
thee  also,  I  cease  not  to  give  thanks  for  thee  in  my  jjrayers 
night  and  day ;  wherefore  also  I  put  thee  in  remembrance, 
that  thou  stir  up  the  gift  of  God  that  is  in  thee.  Preach 
the  word  Be  instant  in  season,  out  of  season.  Do  the 
work  of  an  evangelist ;  make  full  proof  of  thy  ministry. 
Reprove,  rebuke,  exhort,  with  all  long-sufiering  and  doc- 
trine. Let  no  man  despise  thy  youth,  but  be  thou  an  en- 
saraple  to  the  believers,  in  word,  in  convci'sation,  in  charity, 
in  spirit,  in  faith,  in  purity.  Oh,  my  dear  Thomas,  keep 
that  which  is  committed  to  thee,  giving  thanks  unto  God, 
even  the  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  in  that  he  count- 
ed thee  faithful,  putting  thee  into  the  ministry,  according 
to  the  glorious  gospel  of  the  blessed  God  which  is  commit- 
ted to  thy  trust.     Grace  be  with  thee.     Amen  and  amen. 

"  Having  so  little  time,  and  so  much  yet  to  do,  I  bid  you 
a  sweet  farewell. 

"  Ever  sincerely  and  aflcctionately  yours, 

"J.  SUMMERFJELD." 


HIS   VOYAGE    TO   FRANCE.  1G9 

CHAPTER   XIII. 

SAILS  FOR  FRANCE-IXTERESTIXG  LETTER.S  FROM  MARSEILLE.'^. 

The  slate  of  Mr.  Suuimerfielcrs  health  requiring  that  ho 
should  try  the  eflects  of  a  change  of  cliruate,  it  was  settled 
tliat  he  should  for  a  while  leave  the  United  States,  and  visit 
the  West  India  islands.  This  projected  trip,  however,  for 
which  arrangements  had  been  made,  was  ultimately  aban- 
doned in  favor  of  a  voyage  to  Europe,  one  great  object  of 
which  is  clearly  exhibited  in  the  following  extract  from  a 
letter  written  three  days  before  he  sailed,  to  his  "  ever  val- 
ued friend"  Doctor  Baker. 

"  While  you  are  reading  this,  I  am  sailing  on  the  deep  ; 
lift  up  your  heart  and  say,  '  the  Lord  be  with  thy  spirit.' 
The  vessel  is  the  fine  new  ship  Six  Brothers  ;  her  destina- 
tion is  Marseilles,  wliere  Ave  hope  to  arrive  in  forty-five  days. 
Our  captain  is  every  thing  I  could  wish,  and  Me  have  one 
passenger,  wlio  Avill  be  one  heart  and  soul  with  me.  I  have 
been  appointed  a  delegate  from  the  American  Bible  Society 
to  the  Protestant  Bible  Society  of  France,  whose  auuiversaiy 
1  shall  have  to  attend, in  April  next.  With  my  credentials 
I  carry  letters  of  the  most  flattering  kind  to  the  Marquis  de 
Jarcourt,  peer  of  France,  Mr.  Gallatin,  Marquis  de  la  Fay- 
ette, American  consuls,  etc.,  and  a  fry  of  letters  of  intro  • 
duction  to  ministers,  merchauts,  and  private  gentlemen  ;  my 
en/nd,  therefore,  in  a  strange  country,  will  be  greatly  re- 
lieved ;  but  the  best  of  all  is,  '  God  is  with  me.'  Jlis  favor 
is  better  than  /i/e  itself.  Earthly  pageantry  fades  away 
when  brought  into  competition  with  him.  Remember  me 
at  a  throne  of  grace,  and  expect  to  meet  me  there.  It  may 
seem  a  little  strange,  tliat  having  sent  two  prints  of  my 
])ortrait  to  your  city,  one  to  Mr.  Soule  and  one  to  Mr.  Har- 
den, 1  have  not  sent  a  third  to  my  good  friend  in  Light- 


170  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

street :  the  reason  is,  I  have  reserved  the  'better  thhig'  for 
you  ;  should  I  he  spared,  and  ever  remove  to  Baltimore,  I 
shall  personally  jiresent  you  with  the  original  painting,  from 
which  the  print  has  been  taken.  And  now,  my  dear  doctor, 
I  commend  you  and  yours  to  Him  who  is  able  to  keep  you. 
My  time  is  short ;  you  shall  hear  from  me  when  abroad. 
"  Fai'ewell ;  ever  yours, 

".T.  SUMMERFIELD.-' 

On  the  25th  of  December,  1822,  he  took  his  departure 
from  New  York  in  the  ship  Six  Brothers,  captain  Mason, 
bound  to  Marseilles.  It  is  due  to  captain  Williams,  one  of 
the  owners  of  the  vessel,  to  state  that  he  generously  gave 
Mr.  Summerfield  a  free  pasi5age  to  the  port  of  their  destina- 
tion ;  this  kindness,  added  to  the  liberality  of  his  friends, 
enabled  the  beloved  invalid  to  remain  abroad  a  longer  time 
and  with  greater  comfort  than  otherwise  he  might  have  done. 

A  selection  from  a  highly  interesting  series  of  letters  may 
appropriately  be  introduced  in  this  place,  exhibiting  as  they 
do  in  the  most  striking  manner  the  movements,  engagements, 
and  feelings  of  the  writer. 

To  Mr.  Blackstock. 

"  Makseilles,  January  28,  1823. 

"My  dear  James — I  know  not  whether  you  have  heard 
of  our  safe  arrival  before  this  letter  reaches  you,  but  at  all 
events  /  do  know  that  you  will  be  very  anxious  to  hear ; 
and  I  anticipate  the  pleasure  which  these  lines  will  produce 
while  you  read  them,  one  after  the  other,  father,  brothers, 
and  sisterg — and  I  know  not  who  besides.  Yesterday  we 
dropped  our  anchor  iu  the  port  of  Marseilles,  safe  and  sound. 
Bless  the  Lord  of  winds  and  seas.  0  praise  the  Lord  with 
me,  and  let  us  exalt  his  holy  name  together. 

"  Our  passage  has  excited  much  wonder  here,  for  truly 
it  was  an  uncommon  one.  On  the  third  Sunday  after  our 
departure  we  sailed  past  the  Azores,  the  first  European 
land  :   and  so  reirular  were  we  in  all  our  movements,  ihat 


HIS    VOYAGE    TO    FRANCE.  171 

•we  reckoned  to  a  day  our  time,  and  it  Avas  done  unto  us 
'  even  as  we  would.' 

"  We  appointed  in  our  arrangements  tliat  on  the  follow- 
ing Sabbath  we  should  pass  the  straits  of  Gibraltar,  and  it 
was  even  so  ;  on  the  evening  of  that  day  we  were  clear  en- 
tered the  Mediterranean.  Wc  again  continued  our  confi- 
dence in  the  goodness  of  Him  who  '  holds  the  winds  in  his 
fist,'  and  reckoned  our  arrival  at  Marseilles  on  the  following 
Sabbath  ;  it  was  even  so,  that  on  the  night  of  that  day  we 
were  riding  in  the  bay,  and  the  next  day  received  a  piliJt  on 
board,  and  so  made  the  harbor  on  the  thirty-secoud  day — at 
least  a  fortnight  before  our  most  sanguine  expectations. 

"As  this  is  merely  a  letter  of  advice  of  our  arrival,  I  for- 
bear to  enlarge  on  any  other  subject.  By  the  first  vessel 
that  leaves  this  place  for  the  United  States,  I  intend  sending 
a  letter  to  each  of  you,  making  half  a  dozen,  and  also  to  some 
other  of  my  New  York  friends.  This  letter  I  send  by  the 
way  of  Liverpool,  and  this  must  be  a  sufficient  apology  for 
not  writing  to  any  other  by  this  conveyance." 

To  Mr.  Francis  Hall. 

"  Marseilles,  Gth  February,  1823. 

"  My  very  dear  Friend — Before  this  shall  reach  you, 

you  will  have  been  apprized  through  Mr.  Blackstock  of  the 

good  speed  we  made  upon  our  voyage.      I  think  I  never  ex-. 

perienced  more  settled  peace  of  mind  than  during  that  time, 

and  it  was  as  iwrmanent  as  it  was  perfect ;  like  that  steady 

sunshine  of  which  our  ^A'csley  sings,  when 

"  'Not  a  cloud  doth  arise  to  darken  the  skies, 
Or  hide  for  a  moment  my  Lord  from  my  eyes.' 

1  was  a  wonder  unto  myself;  the  word  of  the  Lord  seemed 
sealed  upon  my  heart,  '  Thou  wilt  keep  him  in  fcrfect  peace 
whose  mind  is  stayed  upon  thee,  because  he  trusteth  in  thy 
word.'  I  had  not  a  moment's  uneasiness  concerning  the 
happy  termination  of  our  voyage  ;  I  felt  that  Jesus  was  with 
me  in  my  little  state-room,  '  in  the  hinder  part  of  the  ship,' 


172  ILEV.   JullxN    SITMiML:  IM'I  !•;  LD. 

and  partially  coufiuetl  to  it  as  I  was  by  reason  of  the  wet 
weather,  1  found  by  experience  that 

"'  Prisons  can  palaces  prove, 
If  Josus  Vmi;  deigns  to  be  there.' 

"Whenever  I  threw  the  reins  upon  the  neck  of  rny 
imagination,  which  I  frequently  did  by  way  of  relaxation 
from  severer  studies,  I  found  my  thoughts  involuntarily  to 
lead  me  back  to  New  York,  instead  of  presenting  me  w  ith 
any  airy  speculations  of  the  pleasure  I  should  meet  with  in 
niy  iiative  land,  while  tramping  w])  and  down  again  the 
scenes  of  my  boyish,  but  my  happy  days  ;  truly,  if  the  wind 
had  veered  round  whenever  my  iancy  took  this  turn,  and 
our  vessel  had  sped  its  course  in  the  same  direction,  you 
would  never  have  heard  from  me  at  '  Marseilles.'  1  found, 
that  though  America  was  but  lately  to  me  a  land  of  stran- 
gers, my  heart,  my  aiiections — all  said  it  was  now  my 
'  home;'  and  thus,  in  a  subordinate  sense,  where  my  treasure 
was,  there  was  my  heart  also.  And  indeed,  when  I  consid- 
ered the  friends  that  the  strangers'  God  had  raised  me  up, 
and  then  dwelt  upon  the  ten  thousand  acts  of  kindness  which 
those  friends  have  showed  me  for  his  sake,  I  could  only  won- 
der, love,  and  praise. 

"Among  this  crowd,  my  dear  brother  Hall  holds  no  sec- 
ond place,  and  it  is  only  in  acknowledgment  of  a  vast  debt 
of  gratitude,  which  I  can  but  co)/fess,  but  never  pa//,  that 
I  write  to  him  by  the  first  conveyance  this  country  has  pre- 
sented me  Avith,  in  a  vessel  bound  to  Boston.  I  had  hoped 
for  an  interview  on  Christmas  morning,  but  our  ship  hauled 
away  too  early  to  permit  it.  I  had  not  taken  my  leave  in 
Walker-street  the  evening  previous — your  kindness  was  at 
that  time  too  oppressive  to  admit  of  it ;  but  perhaps  it  was 
well,  for  1  know  not  how  long  the  '  farewell '  might  have 
hung  upon  my  tongue  and  lingered  on  my  lips ;  but  I  thought 
of  you  that  morning  though  I  saw  you  not,  and  sent  more 
than  one  petition  to  the  throne  of  grace  that  a  '  prophet's 


HIS  VOYAGE  TO  FRANCE.  173 

reward'  might  be  yours,  multiplied  as  much  heyond  the 
recompense  promised  to  a  cup  of  cold  water  as  your  substan- 
tial gift  exceeded  that  in  value.  May  the  hearer  of  prayer 
realize  to  you  my  heart's  desire,  and  fill  you  with  all  the  ful- 
ness of  his  holy  love." 

To  his  Father. 

"  M.iRSEiLLEs,  7th  February,  1823. 

"  My  dear  Father — My  health  is  somewhat  better  than 
M'hen  I  left  you';  indeed,  considering  the  dampness  of  a  sea 
atmosphere,  rendered  still  more  so  by  the  rain  which  feli 
every  day  more  or  less  until  we  entered  the  straits  of  Gibral- 
tar, it  is  remarkably  so.  I-  am  now  reaping  the  advantage 
of  the  voyage,  more  than  I  was  able  to  do  at  sea  :  my  appe- 
tite is  uncommonly  good,  but  I  only  gratify  it  in  the  plainest 
food.  The  soups  of  Franco  arc  just  what  answer  me  :  in 
most  of  them  no  animal  food  whatever  enters  into  their  com- 
position ;  vermicelli  and  other  Italian  pastes,  twisted  in  the 
shape  of  little  worms,  or  rounded  like  a  pea  or  bean,  form  the 
substantial  part ;  the  liquid  appears  to  be  chiefly  SAv^eet  oil, 
which  is  here  very  fine,  and  for  which  I  have  acquired  a  high 
relish.  My  cough  is  much  softer  than  it  was,  and  I  expecto- 
rate with  great  freedom ;  this  I  attribute  in  some  measure 
to  the  drying  up  of  the  issue  on  my  breast.  The  other,  on 
my  arm,  is  also  healing  :  so  that  I  will  try  the  efiects  of  this 
measure.  I  found  they  had  always  the  effect  of  making  the 
cough  hard  and  spasmodical,  carrying  ofi'  the  mucus  which 
was  secreted  within,  Avithout  removing  the  radical  disease. 

"  I  take  little  or  no  medicine,  endeavoring  to  produce  a 
cliatige  by  diet  and  exercise.  With  regard  to  the  latter,  I 
live  methodically,  and  arrange  to  walk  at  least  eight  miles 
every  day,  dividing  it  into  four  different  times  to  render  it 
more  agreeable.  In  short,  I  have  solemnly  joined  hands 
with  God  to  preserve  my  life  and  restore  my  poor  and  feeble 
constitution;  I  have  devoted  myself  to  him  afresh,  'and 
promised  in  a  sacred  hour  lor  God  to  live  and  die.'      I  ran 


174  REV.   JOHN    SUMMERFIRLD. 

indeed  say,  for  I  really /eeZ  it  to  be  true,  this  world  has  no 

attractions  for  me ; 

'There's  nothing  here  deserves  my  joys, 
There's  nothing  like  my  God.'  . 

I  have  therefore  no  desire  to  liA^e  but  for  him;  and  I  can- 
not, my  dear  father,  disguise  the  feelings  of  my  heart,  for  I 
confess  to  you  I  am  rather  unwilling  to  go  away  so  soon 
after  entering  the  lists  against  'the  god  of  this  world,' 
although  I  have  a  sweet  Ibretaste  that  when  I  shall  be  ab- 
sent from  the  body,  I  shall  be  present  with  the  Lord  ;  yet  I 
feel  as  if  I  could  endure  this  privation  from  his  presence  for 
some  time  longer,  that  I  may  come  down  like  a  shock  of 
corn  full  ripe  in  its  season,  'filled  with  the  fruits  of  right- 
eousness, which  are  by  Christ  Jesus,  unto  the  glory  and 
praise  of  God  the  Father.'  When  I  reflect  on  the  word  in 
which  I  trust,  that  '  they  who  turn  many  to  righteousness 
shall  shine  as  the  stars,'  I  feel  fired  with  a  holy  ambition, 
which  consumes  me  with  its  fervor.  I  hunger  and  thirst 
after  this,  and  I  feel  a  cleaving  to  earth  that  I  may  finish 
the  work  which  I  believe  is  given  me  to  do.  If  I  could 
only  live  to  sec  many  sons  brought  home  to  glory,  Avhom  1 
might  present  to  tli/3  Captain  of  our  salvation,  I  could  then 
say,  '  Now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace,  according 
to  thy  word,  for  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation.'  You 
know,  ray  dear  father,  and  I  know,  and  God  kmnvs  also — 
and  I  blush  even  now  while  I  write  it — that  much  of  my 
life  has  run  to  waste.  In  the  former  part  of  it  I  lived  to 
myself,  and  not  to  Him  who  loved  me  and  gave  huiiself  for 
me.  I  will  not,  I  cannot  forgive  myself;  no,  never.  But 
I  M'ant  to  make  some  better  return  to  my  dying,  risen  Sav- 
iour. I  wish  to  bear  the  burden  and  heat  and  toil  of  a  long, 
laborious,  well-spent  day.  I  wish  to  serve  my  generation 
by  the  will  of  God,  and  then  to  fall  asleep.  0,  that  God 
would  grant  rac  my  heart's  desire  and  prayer.  But  if  not,  if 
my  spared  life  would  not  conduce  to  his  glory,  I  could  gladly 


ins    VOYAGE    TO   FRANCE.  175 

lay  mc  down  and  die.     Lord  God,  thou  seest  the  end  from 
the  beginning ;  do  with  me  as  seemeth  good  in  thy  sight." 

To  his  second   Sister. 

"Marseilles,  February  10,  1823. 

"  My  DEAii  Amelia — In  writing  a  letter  to  you,  in  com- 
mon with  the  other  members  of  the  family,  I  not  only  do 
myself  a  real  pleasure,  but  I  discharge  in  some  measure, 
at  least  by  acknowledgment,  a  debt  of  gratitude  I  owe 
you,  and  which  has  been  long  accumulating  by  your  thou- 
sand nameless  attentions  to  my  thousand  nameless  wants 
and  anxieties.  The  remembrance  of  them,  is  much  more 
lively  at  this  distance  of  time  and  place,  than  when  I  re- 
ceived them  nearer — resembling  some  of  those  finer  scenes 
of  nature  which  we  only  accurately  estimate  when  viewed 
in  perspective  and  at  a  distance.  Nor  are  there  wanting 
dark  spots  in  abundance  on  the  scene,  to  serve  as  shadows 
in  setting  ofl^  the  lustre  of  the  foreground  ;  I  mean,  iji  the 
indiflerence  with  which  I  too  frequently  received  many  of 
those  attentions,  not  considering  that  they  derived  their 
value  from  the  motive  which  actuated  them,  rather  than 
from  their  intrinsic  worth.  However,  '  forgetting  that  which 
is  behind,  and  reaching  forth  to  those  things  which  are  be- 
fiire,'  I  trust  yet  to  have  years  of  opportunity  to  assure  you 
of  my  sincere  esteem  and  afi'ection  ;  during  which  time,  and 
till  death  shall  make  the  separation  final  as  to  this  world,  I 
desire  and  command  you  ahvays  to  regard  me  not  merely 
as  a  brother,  but  as  z.  friend.  '  A  friend '  sometimes  '  sticketh 
closer  than  a  brother ;'  at  least  there  is  such  a  Friend,  and 
I  have  made  him  mine.  I  would  fain  recommend  him  to 
vou.  'If  you  seek  him,  he  will  be  found  of  you  ;'  and  with 
special  reference  to  your  time  of  life  he  says,  'I  love  them 
that  love  me,  and  they  that  seek  me  early  shall  find  me." 

"After  writing  the  preceding  page,  and  reading  it  over, 
I  find  I  have  been  almost  involuntarily  led  to  a  subject 
which  lies  near  my  heart  with  respect  to  you  and  Anne.     I 


176  REV.    JOHN,  SIJMMERFIKLD. 

have  long  felt  it  a  duly  I  owed  to  you  to  diseourse  seriously 
ujiou  it ;  but  somehow  or  other,  there  is  such  a  backward- 
ness to  say  that  to  one's  relations  which  can  be  easily  dis- 
coursed upon  with  mere  acquaintances,  that  I  have  put  it 
off  again  and  again,  irequently  to  my  great  condemnation. 
At  your  age,  my  dear  Amelia,  you  must  be  fully  sensible 
that  lliU  is  the  time  to  form  your  character  in  the  world. 
I  say  in  the  Avoild,  for  it  is  not  enough  that  your  family  arc 
acquainted  with  your  regard  lor  religious  men  and  things; 
there  must  be  a  profession  made  of  tliis  your  attachment, 
and  a  union  formed  with  some  people  who  love  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity. 

"Perhaps  you  would  wish  my  advice  on  this  subject,  as 
to  what  church  you  ought  to  make  choice  of  If  left  to  me, 
I  would  unhesitatingly  say,  'follow  ray  example  herein,'  i()r 
although  I  see  many  things  among  the  Methodists  which  1 
could  wish  to  be  otherwise,  yet  I  sincerely  believe,  take  them 
as  a  body,  they  are  the  excellent  of  the  earth,  and  have  the 
life  of  God  among  them. 

"Do,  my  dear  Amelia,  consider  this  matter  with  serious- 
ness and  prayer  to  God  for  wisdom  to  direct  you,  and  let  me 
hear  from  you  in  answer  to  this,  with  your  mind  in  full. 
Whatever  objections  you  might  ilnd  to  talk  to  me  about 
these  things,  ycu  can  have  none  to  write  to  me  about  them. 
I  wish  you  also  to  lay  the  matter  before  Anne  ;  she  is  old 
enough  to  serve  the  Lord,  and  I  do  trust  tliat  so  far  from 
her  being^a  hindcraiicc,  she  will  be  a  help  to  you. 

"May  the  Lord  enable  you  to  lay  it  to  heart.  May  he 
bless  you,  and  keep  you  in  his  favor,  fear,  and  love,  all  the 
days  of  your  life,  and  may  I  meet  you  and  embrace  you 
among  those  who  will  stand  with  the  Lamb  upon  mount 
Zion,  after  the  heavens  and  the  earth  are  fled  away. 

"  Farewell,  my  dear  love,  from  the  warm  heart  of  your 
aflectionate  friend  a<id  brother, 

"JOHN." 


HIS   VUi'AGE    TO    FRANCE.  177 

To  his  youngest   Sister. 

"Marseilxes,  February  12,  1823. 

"  My  dkar  Anne — As  T  promised  in  my  letter  to  Mr. 

B to  write  to  each  of  you,  your  turn  now  comes  on ; 

and  yet  what  have  I  to  say  more  concerning  my  voyage  than 
I  have  aheady  said  to  the  rest  of  the  family?  You  will 
only  expect  the  gleanings  ;  and  as  you  are  the  least,  you  will 
be  satisfied  with  little  things.  On  the  ninth  day  after  we 
sailed,  we  picked  up  at  sea  a  little  passenger  that  had  lost 
its  way,  and  would  certainly  have  been  drowned  in  a  few 
minutes  if  no  help  had  arrived.  It  was  a  snipe,  a  land  bird 
that  inhabits  the  swampy  ground.  We  were  then  about  five 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  the  nearest  land,  the  coast  of 
Newlbundland,  and  so  exhausted  was  the  little  creature,  that 
it  perched  upon  our  rigging  and  suflered  itself  to  be  caught 
without  resistance.  The  flight  of  birds  is  very  rapid,  and 
they  can  bear  up  on  the  wing  much  longer  than  you  may 
imagine.  The  surprise,  therefore,  which  this  little  straggler 
may  occasion  you,  will  be  much  reduced  when  I  inform  you 
that  birds  called  carrier-pigeons  are  employed  by  the  emperor 
of  Turkey  to  convey  intelligence  to  him  from  the  most  distant 
parts  of  his  empire  ;  and  they  ordinarily  perform  a  journey 
in  thirty-six  hours  which  it  would  I'equire  eight  days  of 
courier-despatches  to  accomplish.  The  plan  is  this :  A 
quantity  of  these  birds  i^  kept  in  the  seraglio  of  Constanti- 
nople, and  from  this  aviary,  a  basket-full  is  occasionally  .sent 
to  distant  governors  according  as  they  are  wanted.  These 
governors,  on  any  urgent  occasion,  affix  a  letter  of  despatches 
to  the  legs  or  neck,  or  under  the  wings  of  one  of  them,  and 
let  it  fly.  Thus  released,  it  ascends  the  air  to  a  great  height, 
and  by  its  powers  of  vision,  which  are  inconceivably  acute, 
it  then  directs  its  way  to  the  aviary  at  Constantinople,  nor 
ever  misses  its  destination.  All  this  is  performed  Avithout 
once  alighting  to  rest  itself.  To  return  to  our  little  com- 
panion :  it  appeared  to  have  been  blown  oft'  shore  the  pre- 

8* 


178  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

ceding  evening  in  a  squall  of  wind,  and  missed  its  way  in 
the  darkness  of  the  night.  We  all  agreed  to  give  the  little 
fellow  his  passage  free,  and  find  him  in  sea-stores  likewise, 
intending  to  release  him  at  the  first  land  we  should  reach. 
For  this  purpose  we  put  him  in  a  large  wooden  cage  and 
gave  him  his  supper ;  but  alas,  alas,  in  the  course  of  the 
night  Miss  Pussy  found  her  way  to  his  apartment,  and  jeal- 
ous of  a  rival,  she  broke  all  the  laws  of  hospitality  and  tore 
him  in  pieces.  Thus  he  only  escaped  a  watery  grave  to  fnid 
one  in  the  stomach  of  the  cat. 

"Besides  the  above  incident,  we  had  two  other  visitors 
during  our  passage,  but  neither  of  them  remained  long  with 
us.  Two  flying-fishes  alighted  on  our  deck,  and  lo,  our 
black  cook,  imitating  the  bad  example  of  the  cat,  seized 
them  and  put  them  in  the  frying-pan.  I  was  too  sorry  for 
their  fate  to  partake  of  them  when  served  up  at  table,  and 
could  not  help  reflecting  that  just  such  is  man.  He  lives 
upon  his  fellow-man,  and  lives  upon  the  lives  even  of  his 
species  ;  and  lie  is  in  general  accounted  the  cleverest  fellow 
M'ho  rises  to  most  eminence  upon  the  most  numerous  over- 
throws. 

"  1  know  not  that  any  thing  of  importance  occurred 
except  the  above.  I  was  a  little  surprised  that  we  saw  no 
other  fish  on  the  whole  voyage  except  these  unfortunate 
ones — not  even  a  whale,  a  porpoise,  or  a  dolphin;  and  ex- 
cept that  now  and  then  the  cat  would  march  proudly  into 
our  cabin  with  a  poor  mouse  in  her  mouth,  we  had  the  dull 
uniformity  of  getting  up  in  the  morning,  eating  thi'ce  times 
in  the  day,  walking  the  deck  a  little — interspersed  with 
intervals  of  reading,  and  let  me  not  be  ashamed  to  add, 
intervals  of  private  prayer  also — and  then  going  to  bed  at 
night. 

"  At  the  time  of  our  departure  we  had  on  board  a  couple 
of  pigs,  which  shared  a  better  fate  than  those  on  board  the 
General  Lingan ;  they  lived  and  grew  large,  and  are  still 


HIS    VOYAG-E    TO   FRANCE.  179 

alive  and  well ;  besides  them,  a  sheep,  but  the  cook's  knife 
entered  his  throat  in  the  course  of  the  voyage,  and  he  is  no 
more.  In  addition  to  these,  a  very  handsome  goat  completed 
our  stock  of  four-footed  animals ;  she  supplied  us  with  milk 
all  the  passage,  and  was  very  playful,  and  indeed  very  mis- 
chievous also  ;  she  would  pay  me  a  visit  in  my  state-room  at 
midnight,  and  eat  the  herbs  and  garlic  which  were  in  the 
box  imder  my  birth  :  but  poor  N^n  took  sick  about  three 
days  before  we  arrived,  from  some  Spanish  whiting  which 
she  ate,  and  we  feared  she  would  have  gone  the  way  of  the 
sheep,  only  by  a  natural  process ;  however,  I  administered 
to  her  a  bolus  of  sulphur  and  butter,  which  had  the  desired 
efiect,-  and  by  the  time  that  we  arrived  at  Marseilles  she  was 
well  again.  I  received  the  honorary  title  of  doctor,  in  recom- 
pense for  this  piece  of  service,  but  now  that  I  have  left  the 
ship  I  have  lost  the  title  :  it  seems  this  is  my  sea  title  only  ; 
however,  I  am  not  so  ambitious  to  preserve  it  as  to  take  up 
the  seafaring  life  as  my  profession.  I  would,  gladly  let  go 
every  title,  and  remain  on  terra  firma. 

"  I  have  thus  filled  you  a  sheet  of  paper,  or  rather  spoiled 
a  sheet  with  useless  stuft';  but  it  atlorded  me  a  little  amuse- 
ment in  writing  it,  and  indeed  much  pleasure,  when  I  fancied 
myself  conversing  with  my  dear  Anne.  I  expect  she  Avill 
write  to  me  in  return  ;  you  must  not  say  you  have  nothing 
to  say,  for  you  see  I  have  filled  up  a  letter  from — nothing, 
and  this  will  show  you  that  the  most  trifhng  subject  may 
be  made  to  spread  and  expand  itself  much  beyond  its  first 
appearances. 

"  I  have  written  to  Amelia  on  subjects  more  important 
tliau  these,  and  I  expect  she  will  show  you  the  letter  ;  I  con- 
clude, therefore,  this  medley  of  incongruous  matter  with  the 
assurance  of  the  sincercst  allection  of, 
"  My  dear  Anne, 

"  Your  afiectionale  brother, 

•JOHN." 


180  EEV.    JOHN    SUMMERl'JELD. 

To  Mr.  Blackstock. 

"  Marseilles,  February  13,  1823. 

"  My  bear  Mr.  Blackstock — The  subject  of  this  letter 
will  agitate  you  in  various  ways,  for  it  is  of  an  uncommon 
kind:  that  I  may  give  you  the  more  particulars,  I  have 
lalven  a  large  sheet  of  foolscap.  I  must  premise,  that  belbre 
your  eyes  are  .saluted  with  the  intelligence,  or  your  feelings 
allected  by  it,  all  the  scene  which  follows  will  have  passed 
away.  Read  it  therefore,  and  converse  about  it  only  '  as  ol' 
a  tale  that  is  told,  or  a  shadow  that  disappeareth,  or  a  dream 
that  passeth  away  M'hen  one  awaketh.'  I  do  not  think  I 
should  have  touched  upon  it  at  all,  considering  what  a  sen- 
sitive plant  you  are,  and  how  soon  any  impression  which  is 
made  on  me  reaches  to  yourself,  but  that  I  have  mentioned 
it  in  some  other  of  my  letters  to  iriends  ;  and  if  I  left  yoit 
in  the  dark  about  it,  you  would  conceive  the  most  alarming 
apprehensions  and  raise  a  thousand  ghosts  to  haunt  your 
mind  by  day  and  night.  To  keep  you  no  longer  in  suspense, 
therefore, 

"  As  I  have  already  informed  you,  M'e  arrived  here  on 
Monday,  27th  of  January.  Having  sailed  Irom  a  port  in 
which  the  yellow-fever  prevailed  (hu-ing  the  previous  sum- 
mer, we  were  not  permitted  to  touch  the  lioiy  ground  of 
France  that  day  ;  on  Tuesday,  the  board  of  health  sat  upon 
our  case,  and  mercifully  determined — you  know  'the  tender 
orirrcics  of  the  %oickcd  are  cnieV — to  qnarantine  us  for  five 
and  forty  days.  No  French  consular  certificates  with  which 
the  captain  had  provided  himself,  attesting  the  health  of  his 
ci'ew  and  passengers  and  the  city  of  New  York  in  general, 
were  of  any  avail ;  it  was  enough  that  the  fever  had  been 
there,  and  that  we  sailed  from  the  infected  city  :  the  laws 
of  the  Modes  and  Persians  were  not  more  irrevocable. 

"  Mr.  Cunningham  and  myself,  the  only  passengers, 
obtained  favor  in  their  sight,  and  concerning  us  it  was 
decreed,  that  if  we  chose  to  confine  ourselves,  or  rather  be 


HIS   VUYAG-E    TO   FRANCE.  ]81 

confined,  for  it  was  involuntary  on  our  part,  in  the  prison  of 
the  lazaretto  for  thirty  days,  we  might  be  then  at  liberty 
and  permitted  to  walk  upon  this  land  of  freedom.  We  de- 
liberated upon  the  matter  for  a  short  time,  and  made  choice 
of  it,  on  account  of  the  shortness  of  time  it  presented  when 
compared  \Aith  the  former ;  and  the  next  day,  Wednesday, 
the  29th  of  January,  we  were  removed  under  a  guard  in  an 
open  boat,  and  conducted  hither,  where  we  still  remain  in 
'  durance  vile.'  The  same  day  captain  Mason  had  to  sail 
out  of  tlie  port  to  a  small  barren  island  at  some  miles  dis- 
tance, cut  oil'  from  all  human  intercourse,  there  to  ride  out 
his  quarantine  exposed  to  every  wind  that  blows  ;  he  is  now 
moored  Avith  three  cables  ahead  and  two  astern. 

"  As  our  little  boat  approached  this  dreary  spot,  I  felt 
myself  inclined  to  '  play  the  woman  ;'  I  could  have  shed 
tears,  while  my  mind  ruminated  in  silence  over  the  prospect 
Avhich  lay  before  us.  I  said  to  myself,  'Is  tlds  the  reason 
why  I  came  to  France  ;  was  it  for  this  I  left  a  comfortable 
home  and  crossed  tlie  mighty  deep,  to  be  incarcerated  in  a 
French  bastile  ?'  But  I  broke  the  spell,  and  kept  the  foun- 
tain of  my  eyes  sealed  up  ;  I  remembered  I  was  in  His 
Jta/tds  who  had  said,  '  All  things  shall  work  together  for  good 
to  them  that  luve  God  ;'  and  'the  very  hairs  of  your  head 
are  all  numbered.' 

"  We  were  placed  in  a  small  apartment  five  yards  square, 
with  two  dark  chambers  leading  from  it  for  our  bedrooms, 
about  three  yards  square  each  ;  the  whole  is  exactly  on  the 
plan  of  your  garret  and  the  two  rooms  leading  out  of  it,  only 
that  our  chambers  had  no  light  but  what  they  received  from 
leaving  open  the  door.  The  entire  was  unfurnished  ;  nothing 
but  bare  walls,  cobweb-hung,  and  stained  with  the  smoke 
from  an  old  fireplace,  Avhich  our  sitting-room  alone  contain- 
ed. We  immediately  encouraged  each  other  as  well  as  we 
could,  though  my  companion  was  considerably  chapfalleyi, 
and  set  about  to  furnish  it  in  the  ,best  way  in  our  power. 


162  RKV.    JUHN    SUMM.E11F1ELD. 

Having  a  guard  placed  over  us,  who  watches  us  with  an 
eagle's  eye  both  day  and  night,  and  sleeps  in  the  sitting- 
room — for  so  I  must  call  it  for  distinction's  sake — we  dis- 
patched him  to  a  liotel,  so  called — where  all  our  victuals  is 
prepared ;  it  is  within  the  prison  walls — and  ordered  furni- 
ture :  we  received  a  deal  table  and  two  old  chairs,  all  of 
which  appeared  to  have  been  used  from  the  foundation  of 
the  building,  1G67,  and  three  or  four  deal  planks  to  sleep 
on,  with  two  iron  bearers  to  carry  them ;  however,  as  this 
promised  very  hard  fare  for  sleeping  accommodations,  we 
afterwards  procured  for  money — for  any  thing  can  be  had 
even  here  for  money — two  sacking  bottoms  and  frames,  much 
like  your  cots  ;  we  had  the  precaution  to  bring  beds  and 
bedding  from  the  ship,  captain  Mason  having  kindly  oflered 
the  privilege,  and  thus  we  escaped  the  company  of  those 
midnight  vermin  with  which  similar  articles  in  this  place 
abound.     Having  thus  furnhhcd  our   apartments — which 
by  the  by  have  cold  brick  floors,  both  sitting-room  and  bed- 
chambers— we   turned   our  attention  to   the   sideboard,  or 
rather  to  our  little  three-shelved  cupboard,  which  stands  on 
the  right  of  the  fireplace,  and  is  the  only  fixture  in  the  room, 
except  two  pieces  of  iron  let  into  the  hearth- stone  by  way  of 
andirons.     This  we  furnished  with  two  teacups  and  saucers, 
two  or  three  white  plates,  a  couple  of  knives  and  forks  and 
spoons,  a  salt  and  a  pepper  cellar,  ,and  a  candlestick,  all  of 
earthenware  except  the  knives,  etc.     We  also  obtained  an 
earthen  jug,  in  which  we  boil  our  water  for  tea,  and  a  smaller 
one   to   serve   for  a   cream-ewet — rather   a   milk-pot — but 
which  necessity  obliges  us  to  convert  to  sundry  other  pur- 
poses, such  as  boiling  our  washing-dishes  water,  serving  as 
a  shaving-mug,  etc. 

"  I  believe  I  have  given  you  a  list  of  our  furniture  in  all 
its  departments ;  necessity,  however,  the  mother  of  inven- 
tion, compelled  us  to  increase  this  inventory  by  several  little 
articles  which  we  manufactured  at  our  leisure  :  such  as  a  pair 


HIS  VOYAGE    TO   FRANCE.  18i 

of  snufl'ers,  by  a  piece  of  wood  prepared  in  the  form  of  a 
clothes-peg  ;  this  we  use  by  pressing  the  open  ends  together : 
a  set  of  rirc-iw}is,  by  two  sticks,  which  serve  either  as  pokers 
wlicn  used  separately,  or  tongs  when  held  in  each  hand  and 
applied  together  :  in  short,  we  have  found  out  many  im- 
provcments  in  housekeeping,  which  may  benefit  us  in  after- 
life. Our  mode  of  living  would  amuse  you,  were  you  behind 
a  curtain  and  observing  us  ;  our  dinner  we  receive  from  the 
hotel,  whatever  we  order,  but  our  breakfast  and  tea  we  make 
ourselves.  Our  tea-table  is  spread  much  as  follows  :  a  white 
teacup  and  saucer  and  spoon  on  each  side ;  a  plate  with  butter 
and  a  plate  to  hold  the  loaf  stand  at  the  extreme  end  ;  a 
saltcellar  occupies  the  middle  spot,  to  season  the  butter  which 
would  be  otherwise  unpalatable  ;  a  blue  paper  is  then  open- 
ed and  laid  on  the  table,  containing  our  sugar,  and  a  similar 
one  opposite  to  it  with  our  tea  ;  a  couple  of  knives  complete 
the  whole.  Having  taken  our  seats,  and  thus  put  into  requi- 
sition every  article  in  the  room,  we  take  each  a  spoonful  of 
tea,  and  putting  it  into  our  cups — having  no  teapot  to  draw 
it  in — pour  the  water  on  it,  etc.,  etc.,  using  our  fingers  for 
sugar-tongs  and  other  things,  as  like  need  rerpiires  :  and  I  do 
assure  you,  I  have  made  many  a  pleasant  meal  within  these 
walls,  and  felt  a  grateful  heart. 

"You  will  excuse  the  pleasantness  of  the  manner  in 
which  I  have  described  these  things  :  it  is  not  my  usual 
style,  but  I  feared  you  would  droop  under  the  view  of  our 
privations,  had  I  chosen  any  other.  We  know  not  yet  what 
the  expense  may  be  for  each  of  us,  but  we  suppose  it  may 
be  about  ten  dollars  a  week.     Enough,  and  to  spare. 

"I  "shall  now  give  you  an  account  of  the  caution  with 
which  our  intercourse  with  our  guard  and  others  is  carried 
on.  Every  one,  you  must  know,  views  us  as  infected  with 
the  yelloiv-fever,  and  acts  accordingly.  If  any  have  to  pass 
by  u?,  they  take  the  windward  side,  for  '  our  very  breath 
breathes  pestilence  I'     If  we  have  occasion  to  send  a  letter 


184  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

to  town,  to  any  of  those  friends  to  A\hom  we  were  intro- 
duced from  New  York,  it  is  received  from  us  by  a  long  pair 
of  tongs  held  by  a  man  at  full  stretch.  This  letter  he  plunges 
in  a  vessel  of  vinegar  till  it  is  thoroughly  soaked,  and  for 
fear  of  contagion  enclosed,  he  pierces  it  through  with  four 
holes  by  a  mallet  and  a  sharp  iron  applied  to  it  on  a  block : 
it  is  then  Jit  for  use,  and  is  despatched  accordingly.  Indeed, 
if  you  would  form  a  correct  idea  of  the  abhorrence  connected 
Avilli  our  persons,  and  the  distance  observed  by  every  one 
who  spies  us  in  his  path,  you  will  best  conceive  it  by  remem- 
bering the  treatment  of  lepers  under  the  Jewish  law.  A 
rattlesnake  is  not  more  shunned  than  Ave. 

"  When  we  first  came  here,  our  restrictions  were  much 
greater  than  at  present.  We  were  confined  to  a  walk  in 
front  of  our  cell,  Avhich  is  eighty-seven  yards  long  by  lour 
wide;  up  and  down  this  I  generally  exercised  myself  in 
promenading  eighty  times  a  day — equal  to  eight  miles  :  this 
I  perform  at  ibur  times.  To  this  little  space  Ave  were  con- 
lined  lor  the  ilrst  fifteen  days,  which  expired  the  day  before 
yesterday.  We  are  now  allowed  a  much  larger  field  of 
action,  though  still  not  without  the  accompaniment  of  our 
guard.  After  we  had  been  six  days  in  confinement,  we 
were  closeted  in  our  little  cell,  and  stoved  with  burning 
brimstone^similar  to  the  mode  of  destroying  bugs.  I  thought 
I  should  have  been  suflbcated.  I  flew  to  the  door  for  air, 
but  it  was  held  by  an  officer  outside  ;  it  threw  me  into  a 
paroxysm  of  coughing  which  shook  me  to  my  heart's  core, 
but  thank  God  it  had  no  worse  consequences.  In  nine  davs 
more,  namely,  on  the  fifteenth  of  our  coniinement,  we  under- 
went a  second  stoving  in  the  same  way,  together  tv-ith  all 
our  clothes,  trunks,  etc.,  every  article  being  spread  upon 
lines  drawn  across  our  sitting-room  ;  after  this,  finding  no 
spots,  black,  blue,  green,  or  yellow,  to  break  out  upon  us,  we 
were  considered  as  half  cleansed,  and  had  our  promenade 
privileges  extended  accordingly.     I  believe  we  are  only  to 


HIS  VOYAGE   TO   FRANCE.  185 

have  one  oilier  application  of  the  fumes  of  brimstone,  namely, 
on  the  day  of  our  departure;  this  I  shall  look  upon  as  a  gen- 
teel turn-out :  but  whether,  after  so  much  smoking,  we  shall 
leave  the  place  sweeter  than  we  entered  it,  is  a  matter  very 
doubtful  with  me. 

"  Amid  it  all  I  enjoy  my  health  excellently  well,  and 
fill  up  my  time  by  writing  and  reading  several  hours  a  day : 
added  to  this,  the  exercise  of  making  up  my  bedchamber, 
sweeping  the  rooms  with  a  birch  broom,  making  the  fire, 
boiling  our  earthen  kettles,  preparing  breakfast,  etc.,. etc., 
and  Mritiiig  to  my  friends,  altogether  makes  my  time  go 
pleasantly  along,  nor  was  my  flow  of  spirits  ever  better  in 
my  life. 

"We  have  a  little  Catholic  chapel  at  the  end  of  our 
promenade,  and  here  I  find  seasons  of  retirement  for  con- 
versing with  Him  who  seeth  in  secret,  and  knows  my  situa- 
tion in  all  its  secret  parts — with  Him  who  directs  all  things, 
and  does  all  things  well ;  and  here,  though  prostrated  before 
a  crucifix  and  a  host  of  images,  calculated  to  sink  the  soul 
to  earths  inmost  centre,*  I  enjoy  that  fellowship  with  the 

*  In  a  long  letter  to  his  valued  friend  Dr.  Baker,  dated  five  days 
earlier  than  the  one  cited  above,  occurs  the  following  passage  m  refer- 
ence to  his  devotional  exercises  in  the  little  chapel  alluded  to  :  "I 
often  feel  at  a  loss  to  say  whether  I  am  in'  the  body  or  out  of  the  body. 
I  had  a  sweet  season  there  this  morning,  and  I  find  my  hour  is  again 
drawing  nigh :  there  I  will  remember  you  and  yours,  and  not  only 
praise  on  your  account,  but  strive  io  pray  that  you  may  be  '■over- 
whelmed with  all  His  weight  of  love.''  Oh,  this  iceight  of  love.  It  was 
this  which  constrained  our  Fletcher  to  cry  out,  'Lord,  hold  back;  for- 
bear thy  hand.'  He  feared  the  vessel  would  break ;  but  will  you  not 
permit  me  rather  to  say,  'Lord,  expand  the  capacity,  enlarge  the  meas- 
ure, make  thyself  room,  and  fill,  fill,  fill  the  holy  and  the  holiest 
place,  till  all  their  souls  be  love.^  Amen  and  Amen."  How  ardent 
were  his  "spiritual  aspirations  in  this  little  oratory.  And  with  what 
interesting  associations  do  we  recognize  this  devoted  preacher,  while 
here  excluded  from  the  city  on  suspicion  of  being  infected,  manifesting 
that  entire  consecration  of  himself  to  God  which  is  said  to  have  char- 
acterized "Marseilles'  good  bishop,"'  who  remained  so  heroically  with 


IbG  llEV.  JuilN    SL'MMEllFlELl). 

Fathei-  and  with  his  Son  Jesus  Christ,  which  the  world 
knows  nothing  of.  There  also  I  remember  each  of  you  by- 
name, from  my  dear  parent  down  to  Anne ;  and  Oh,  Jaow 
sweet  those  moments  are.  I  trust  you  all  remember  me. 
Pray  for  mo,  that  I  may  soon  be  restored  to  you  all  in  healtli 
of  body  and  vigor  of  mind  ;  to  part  no  more  till  death  shall 
do  his  office. 

"Farewell,  my  dear  James. 

"  Ever  afiectionately  yours, 

"J.  SUMMERFIELD."' 

The  following  extract  is  from  a  letter  addressed  by  Mr. 
Summerfield  to  a  young  man,  a  near  and  dear  relative,  who 
had  imbibed  sentiments,  or  perhaps  rather  adopted  a  course 
of  conduct,  unhappily  but  too  prevalent  with  many  wliosc 
immature  talents  arc  so  sharpened  by  unholy  disputation, 
that  they  find  it  indiflercntly  easy  to  defend  or  oppose  relig- 
ious doctrines. 

'•  Marseilles,  16th  February,  1823. 

"  Permit  me  to  warn  you  of  one  rock  on  which  many 
have  split,  and  round  which  you  often  delight  to  play:  I 
mean,  the  arguing  against  that  which  you  notwithstanding 
believe  to  be  true  in  its  nature,  and  that  entirely  for  the 
love  of  opposition.  Yoa  may  think  yourself  safe,  and  smile 
at  the  concern  which  you  have  thereby  caused  to  your  op- 
ponent ;  you  may  -think,  '  I  have  done  no  harm  ;  I  firmly 
believe  that  you  are  right,  though  I  have  taken  the  opposite 
side  for  the  sake  of  argument ;'  but  I  do  assure  you,  and 
experience  will  prove  it  to  be  too  true,  that  this  disposition 
indulged  in,  will  so  put  you  upon  seeking  out  objections  to 
those  doctrines  which  you  inwardly  acknowledge,  that  in  a 
short  time  you  will  have  persuaded  yourself  into  the  belief 

his  people  during  the  great  plague,  that  he  is  poetically  said  to  have 

drawn 

'■ purer  breath. 

When  Nature  sickened  and  the  gale  was  death." 


HIS  VOYAGE   TO   FRANCE.  187 

that  they  are  mightier  than  the  evidence  oi"  truths  which 
you  have  not  yet  been  equally  careful  to  collect,  and  which 
you  begin  to  think  you  received  from  the  prejudice  of  your 
nurse,  or  of  education.  This  will  lead  to  the  preferring  error 
to  truth,  although  in  time  you  may  appear  to  be  sincere  in 
this  preference,  and  please  yourself  with  thinking  you  have 
equally  weighed  both  sides,  and  given  an  impartial  decis- 
ion;  the  old  adage  will  nevertheless  be  found  correct,  that 
'  truth  lies  at  the  bottom  of  the  well ;'  it  may  be  covered 
with  error  and  ignorance,  which  are  always  found  near  the 
surface. 

"  To  binng  these  general  remarks  to  a  f articular  bear- 
ing, let  me  intreat  you,  first  of  all,  to  satisfy  yourself  of  the 
divine  origin  of  the  sacred  Scriptures,  if  indeed  you  have 
any  serious  doubts  thereon.  Its  evidences  flow  in  upon  you 
with  a  flood  of  light,  if  you  seriously  connect  prayer  to  the 
Father  of  lights  for  his  superintendence  and  direction.  As 
to  human  productions,  I  recommend  to  you  the  first  volum- 
of  Home's  Introduction  to  the  Study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
etc.  Having  ascertained  the  Bible  to  be  the  word  of  God, 
you  should  implicitly  obey  all  its  contents.  Your  belief 
should  not  be  rendered  easy  or  difficult  by  the  probability  or 
improbability  of  the  subject,  by  its  plainness  or  its  abstruse- 
ness,  but  be  always  simply  determined  by  the  authority  of 
the  Revcalcr :  '  the  mouth  of  the  Lord  hath  spoken  it,' 
therefore  I  receive  this  doctrine,  and  credit  that  fact.  This 
obtains  even  with  regard  to  hutnau  testimony  ;  and  if  we 
believe  the  testimony  of  77ien  of  undoubted  integrity  and 
truth,  the  testimony  of  God  is  greater.  To  believe  no  more 
of  God,  or  of  his  word,  or  of  his  works,  than  we  can  com- 
prehend or  reduce  to  some  of  our  modes  of  knowledge,  is 
not  to  honor  the  authority  of  God  at  all ;  yea,  'tis  actually 
a  reflection  on  his  irisdafti  and  veracity :'  on  his  wisdom,  as 
if  he  could  tell  us  no  more  than  we  know ;  on  his  veracity, 
as  if  he  were  not  to  be  trusted  if  he  could.     In  short,  my 


188  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

dear ,  the  word  of  God  is  not  matter  of  opiniou  or  spec- 
ulation, when  its  divine  authenticity  is  ascertained.  It  is 
judgment,  settled  laiv,  decided  truth;  it  reveals  in  the 
way  of  judgment  or  decision,  that  man  is  fallen,  is  in  danger 
of  hell-fire,  and  can  only  he  saved  through  the  sacrificial 
death  of  Jesus  Christ,  coequal  and  eternal  with  the  Father. 
It  is  useless  to  oppose  these  truths,  they  tnuit  he  suhmitted 
to.  The  gospel  commands,  not  jJ^'oj^oses  ;  it  must  be  obeyed. 
'  Repent,  and  believe  the  gospel.'  May  God  speak  this 
word  to  you  with  power." 

On  the  27  th  of  February,  Mr.  Summer  field  was  allowed 
to  leave  the  lazaretto  "in  good  health  and  with  a  gratefid 
heart.''  In  a  letter  to  his  father,  he  says,  "  My  mind  was 
not  free  from  uneasiness  on  this  subject  during  the  whole 
time  of  my  confinement ;  for  il"  I  had  been  taken  unwell  iu 
any  way,  I  could'have  had  no  relief  but  by  being  sent  to 
the  hospital ;  and  any  complaint  with  Avhich  I  might  have 
been  afllicted  would  have  been  regiirded  so  suspiciously  as  a 
spront  of  yelloic-fevcr,  that  the  time  of  quarantine  would 
have  been  prolonged,  and  my  fellow-passenger  would  have 
sufiered  in  the  same  proportion." 

To  his  Father. 

"  Marseilles,  Feb.  28,  182.3. 

"  My  DEAR  Fatiikh — Although  this  letter  can  be  esteem- 
ed little  more  than  a  wrapper  to  the  enclosed  packet,  yet 
you  will,  I  am  persuaded,  set  more  value  upon  it  than  it 
deserves,  on  account  of  the  relation  which  the  writer  of  it 
bears  to  you. 

"A  chief  reason  why  I  preferred  to  write  by  the  Argus 
was,  that  I  might  be  able  to  inform  you  of  my  having  left 
the  lazaretto,  which  I  did  yesterday,  iu  good  health  and 
with  a  grateful  heart. 

"  The  circumstance  of  my  dehverance  therefrom  under 
such  favorable  auspices,  will,  I  am  persuaded,  be  matter  of 


HIS    VOyAGE    Tu   FRANt'li;.  189 

thanksgiving  to  the  God  of  all  comfort  and  consolation,  in 
your  approaches  to  his  mercy-seat.  He  has  numbered  the 
hairs  of  my  head,  and  spieth  out  all  my  ways.  I  shall  not 
leave  this  city  for  at  least  a  fortnight,  until  captain  Mason 
leaves  his  quarantine,  as  I  wish  to  see  him  ;  meantime,  I 
purpose  visiting  Montpelier  for  a  few  days,  and  returning 
here  again,  and  afterwards  going  to  Nismes  and  again  re- 
turning here  ;  this  will  occupy  me  till  that  time  expires. 
My  chief  object  in  going  to  these  two  places  is  to  make  a 
visit  to  two  clergymen  who  have  been  spoken  of  to  me  as 
the  llower  of  France,  and  from  whom  I  have  received  warm 
solicitations  to  spend  some  time  bel'ore  I  proceed  northward. 
I  have  also  been  favored  with  some  truly  Christian  letters 
from  Paris,  while  confined  here.  I  anticipate  a  warm  and 
cordial  reception  when  I  arrive  in  that  city,  although  it  may 
be  said  to  be  in  many  respects  '  the  place  where  Satan's  seat 
is ;'  yet  there  are  '  a  few  names  even  there,  who  have  not 
defiled  their  garments.'  I  do  not  expect  to  arrive  there  much 
before  the  anniversary  of  the  Paris  Bible  Society,  which  falls 
on  the  IGth  of  April ;  meantime  I  have  forwarded  the  doc- 
uments with  which  I  was  honored  by  the  American  Bible 
Society.  Early  in  tlie  month  of  May  I  hope  to  arrive  in 
England. 

"  The  lew  lines  which  I  received  from  my  friends  in 
Walker-street  by  the  Virginia,  contained  intelligence  of  so 
afflicting  a  nature  as  to  need  no  enlargement ;  indeed  I 
almost  wished  that  the  vessel  had  not  arrived.  The  con- 
tinuance of  your  illness  has  been  matter  of  grief  indeed  to 
mo,  separated  from  you  as  I  now  am,  and  likely  to  remain 
for  a  short  time  longer ;  but  I  know  there  is  One  who  will 
be  better  to  you  than  all  my  fears  I  hesitate  at  the  very 
outset  of  my  endeavor  to  administer  any  consolation.  Noth- 
ing that  I  could  say  would  bp  new  to  yoi(,  and  I  shall  there- 
fore only  make  known  my  requests  on  your  behalf  to  Ilini 
who  is  the  daily  witness  of  my  prayers  and  thanksgivings. 


190  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

"Yes,  my  dear  father,  all  will  Le  well.  Life  or  death 
is  gain.  You  have  a  strong  arm  to  lean  upon  ;  'tis  not  an 
arm  of  flesh. 

"  Noiv,  'tis  for  you  to  comfort  yourself  with  the  same 
comfort  whicli  you  have  often  administered  to  others.  Nay, 
I  cannot  doubt  but  you  are  comforted  of  God.  My  constant 
petition  is,  that  we  may  both  be  spared  to  meet  again  in  the 
flesh  before  we  go  hence  to  be  no  more  seen  of  men ;  every 
thing  else  I  submit  to  Him  who  knows  what  is  best,  and 
who  is  too  wise  to  err  :  but  thin  petition  I  present  without 
ceasing,  and  to  this  I  cannot  yet  say,  '  but  if  oiot,  thy  will 
be  done.'  Oh,  no,  let  us  meet  again,  and  then,  whether  it 
is  /  or  you  who  may  be  hence  removed,  we  will  endeavor 
submissively  to  say,  '  Now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in 
peace.'  Oh,  my  dear  father,  death  is  treading  upon  our 
licols  ;  yet  '  death  is  ours,  for  we  are  Christ's.' 

"  I  will  write  to  you  again  by  iny  next  conveyance ; 
meantime  remain, 

"  Ever  your  aflectionate  child, 

^UOHN.'' 

To  his  brother  "William. 

'•  M.vRsEir.LKs,  March  1,  1823. 

"  I  have  been  too  short  a  time  at  libertij  to  say  any  thing 
of  the  country  ;  what  little  I  have  seen  is  not  prepossessing  : 
you  will  not  expect  that  /  should  view  it  very  minutely  in 
any  of  its  bearings  but  those  which  are  connected  with  a 
religious  point  of  view  :  on  this  subject,  the  scene  is  awful. 
If  the  jest  were  not  too  serious  a  one,  some  Christian  Diog- 
enes might  parade  the  streets  of  Marseilles  at  noonday,  with 
a  lighted  taper  in  his  hand,  in  rpicst  of  one  religious  man! 
I  dare  not  enter  into  particulars  ;  tliat  must  be  matter  of 
conversation  when  we  meet. 

"  I  am  as  anxious  to  arrive  at  Paris  as  I  am  to  quit 
Marseilles.  I  received  a  letter  from  there  yesterday,  which 
may  be  compared  to  one  of  those  delightful  resting-places, 


HIS  VOYAGE  TO  FRANCE.  191 

whose  freshness  meets  the  longing  eye  and  satisfies  the  wea- 
ried limbs  of  wayworn  travellers  amid  the  burning  sands  of 
the  desert  of  Sahara.  I  expect  to  write  to  some  of  you  from 
that  city.  Meantime,  with  kind  remembrances  to  each  and 
all  of  you,  I  am,  my  dear  William, 

"  Ever  your  aircctionate  brother, 

"JOHN." 
To  his  family   Friends. 

"Marseu.les,  March  4,  IS'23. 

"I  have  now  spent  one  Sunday  in  Marseilles.  I  say 
Sunday,  for  it  ought  not  to  be  called  a  Sabbath:  the  hea- 
then name  is  much  more  fit  to  be  applied  to  it  in  this  city. 
In  the  forenoon  I  went  to  the  Reformed  Protestant  church. 
It  is  the  only  one  of  any  other  kind  here  except  Roman- 
catholic.  It  is  not  Episcopal,  but  Presbyterian  in  its  gov- 
ernment. But  how  shall  I  picture  to  you  the  scene?  I 
will  not  attempt  it  ;  but  I  sincerely  fear  that  our  Lord's 
M'ords  to  the  woman  of  Samaria  may  be  applied  even  to 
them:  'Ye  worship  y^e  know  not  what.'  They  had  no 
afternoon  service.  I  therefore  walked  after  dinner  to  the 
Catholic  church  of  Notre  Dame,  situated  on  an  immense 
eminence  outside  the  city<  I  cannot  tell  you  its  height 
now,  but  I  shall  learn  it  before  I  leave  the  place.  Its  diffi- 
cult access  has  rendered  all  prayers  and  penances  said  ami 
done  there  doubly  efficacious,  as  we  were  mformed  by  a 
great  placard  affixed  at  its  entrance  by  the  vicar-gencral. 
Among  other  things  he  tells  us  that  the' Virgin  Mary  has 
peculiarly  owned  the  place,  and  granted  innumerable  favors 
to  those  who  have  worshipped  her  there.  A  list  of  indul- 
gences was  affixed  to  the  document,  of  which  I  think  tlio 
least  was,  a  remission  of  two  hundred  days  in  purgatory 
to  any  one  who  says  Ave  Marias  on  five  successive  Satur- 
days, and  that  this  remission  can  be  transferred  for  the  relief 
of  any  soul  in  purgatory  whom  they  wish  to  serve  by  this 
post-moitem  deed.      And   can  any  be  so  imposed  upon  at 


192  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

tliis  enlightened  day?  Yes,  it  is  too  true.  Many  were 
there  prostrated  before  the  image  of  the  beast.  My  very 
heart  ached;  I  heaved  a  sigh  and  turned  back  to  this  un- 
happy city — unhapiyy  indeed,  amid  all  the  natural  advan- 
tages with  which  it  is  so  richly  furnished.  In  the  evening 
the  theatres  were  open,  and  the  people  flocked  there  to  crown 
the  devotions  of  this  sacred  day. 

"  0,  how  I  long  to  meet  a  people  who  love  and  fear  God. 
If  I  had  the  wings  of  a  dove,  I  would  fly  away  and  be  at 
rest ;  England  should  soon  find  me  on  her  happy  shores. 
I  shall  want  more  powerful  help  than  this  to  bring  me  back 
again  to  you  ;  but  when  the  ship  shall  spread  her  stouter 
wings,  and  I  turn  my  face  to  that  city  where  my  affections 
still  are,  I  shall  pray  that  the  winds  of  heaven  may  fill  every 
sail,  and  bring  me  to  the  renewed  embrace  of  those  who 
still  retain  in  their  aflections  the  remembrance  of  their 

"  Friend  and  brother, 

'^JOHN.- 

To  his  Father. 

"  Marseilles,  23J  March,  1823. 

"My  dear  Father, — The  painful  intelligence  of  your 
continued  illness  so  absorbs  every  other  consideration,  that  I 
have  almost  lost  sight  of  my  own,  and  had  nearly  concluded 
to  return  to  New  York  without  proceeding  any  lurther.  I 
however  experienced  some  relief  from  Ellen's  letter,  which 
•speaks  more  liivorably. 

"  In  the  midst  of  all  my  grief,  however,  I  have  endeav- 
ored to  cherish  a  hope  that  you  are  now  improving  ;  and 
the  more  I  bring  the  matter  before  the  throne  of  grace,  the 
stronger  is  my  confidence  that  we  shall  be  spared  to  see  each 
other  in  the  flesh  once  more  before  our  final  meeting  among 
the  general  assembly  and  church  of  the*first-born  which  are 
written  in  heaven.  This  reconciles  me  to  continue  my  jour- 
aiey  to  England,  and  as  far  as  I  have  light  upon  my  path,  I 
beheve  I  have  the  accompanying  blessing  and  presence  of 


HIS   VOYAGE    TO   FRANCE.  193 

Him  whose  I  am  and  whom  I  serve.  I  trust,  my  dear 
father,  you  have  not  found  the  fiery  trial  too  strong  a  test  of 
that  sure  hope  and  confidence  in  'Him  who  doeth  all  thiuos 
well,"  which  I  know  you  have  long  experienced.  The  fur- 
nace has  been  heated  seven  times  hotter  than  usual,  if,  as 
Mr.  B.  says,  '  all  your  former  afflictions  were  not  to  be  com- 
pared to  this.'  But  still  you  have  not  walked  through  it 
alone  ;  the  Son  of  man  has  entered  with  you: 

'•'He  knows  what  sore  alUictioiis  mean, 
For  he  hiith  J'e It  the  same.' 

0,  what  seasons  are  these  to  admire  the  relation  in  which 
the  Saviour  of  men  stands  to  us.  He  is  a  High-priest,  who 
is  touched  with  our  suflerings,  because  he  was  made  in  all 
points  like  unto  us  ;  bone  of  our  bone,  and  flesh  of  our  flesh. 
He  does  not  speculate  upon  our  afflictions,  but  from  his  own 
experience  knows  how  much  we  can  bear,  and  is  careful  that 
no  greater  trials  shall  befall  us  than  such  as  we  are  able  to 
bear,  ever  promising  us,  'My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee.' 
May  you,  my  dear  father,  experience  the  strength  of  the 
Mighty  One  resting  upon  you.  '  Blessed  is  the  man  that  en- 
dureth  temptation,'  for  when  he  is  tried,  he  shall  receive  a 
crown  of  life — a  crown  of  glory  which  fadeth  not  away.  A 
few  more  suflerings,  and  the  cup  will  be  emptied.  0,  my 
father,  though  you  have  drunk  of  it  deeply,  yet  do  not  stop 
at  the  dregs — do  not  turn  your  head  aside  from  the  nauseous 
sediment  which  remains ;  it  will  soon  be  over.  Rejoice  that 
you  are  counted  worthy  to  sufler,  and  as  we  have  seen  in 
your  example  what  it  is  to  live,  let  us  also  learn  what  it  is 
to  die.  But  Oh  that  this  lesson  may  be  kept  back  for  many 
seasons  yet  to  come.  May  we  still  be  spared  together  to 
reap  joy  for  eveiy  scene  in  which  we  have  felt  sorrow,  and 
at  last  all  brought  home  in  the  same  chariot  to  Elijah's  God, 
to  be  ever  with  the  Lord. 

"  Very  afiectionately,  my  dear  father,  your 

••.lOHN." 

SMniniertiria  9 


194  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFiELD. 

To  his  brother  William. 

"Marseilles,  March  30,  18:23. 

"This  city  is  the  most  micient  iu  France,  having  been 
built  six  hundred  years  before  Christ,  whicli  brings  it  to  one 
hundred  and  fifty  years  after  the  building  of  Rome.  It  was 
founded  by  a  colony  from  the  ancient  city  of  Phocia  in  Ionia, 
and  its  inhabitants  are  still  proud  to  preserve  their  original 
name  of  Phocians.  Its  importance  increased  so  rapidly,  that 
it  soon  became  an  ally  of  the  Romans — an  honor  not  allo\\'ed 
to  every  applicant  for  that  distinguished  privilege. 

"The  arts  and  sciences  appear  to  have  flourished  here 
as  much  as  military  accomplishments,  if  the  ancient  motio 
of  the  city  is  to  be  depended  upon.  It  reads  thus  in  English, 
in  which  language  I  prefer  to  give  it  to  you,  as  I  do  not  know 
that  you  pretend  to  much  knowledge  in  French  :  '  Massilia, 
the  daughter  of  the  Phocians,  the  sister  of  Rome,  the  terror 
of  Cartilage,  the  rival  of  Athens'  So  much  concerning 
its  ancient  splendor.  Its  modern  appearance  makes  a  very 
sorry  figure  in  the  contrast ;  for  although  Strabo  the  ancient 
geographer  speaks  of  it  as  one  of  the  most  superb  cities  in 
his  time,  no  traces  whatever  are  to  be  found  of  its  former 
grandeur  :  all  that  remains  even  of  its  antiquity  that  I  have 
seen,  are  a  feAV  columns  of  an  ancient  temple  of  Diana, 
which  now  form  some  of  the  buttresses  of  a  modern  temple 
of  Mary,  the  viife  of  Joseph  the  carpenter.  There  are  also 
some  old  columns  standing  outside  the  city  upon  a  site  once 
occupied  by  a  temple  of  Apollo,  but  which  have  not  been 
consecrated  to  any  modern  deity.  I  suppose  the  partiality 
of  the  Catholics  runs  in  favor  of  xromen,  and  the  transition 
was  not  great  between  Diana  and  Mary,  whom  they  have 
put  in  her  stead.  Indeed,  nothing  is  to  be  seen  in  their 
temples  throughout  the  city,  but  shrines  for  the  devotees  of 
the  modern  goddess. 

"  I  have  remarked  that  these  are  the  only  remains  I  have 
met  with  of  the  anlirpiitij  of  this  city;   and  of  its  splpndnr 


HIS  VOYAOt:  TO  FRANCE.  195 

find,  former  magnijice?ice,  I  have  discovered  none.  So  long 
as  it  remained  a.  free  city,  such  as  Hamburg  and  Bremen,  I 
beheve  it  flourished  beyond  any  other  contemporary ;  but  sub- 
jugated as  it  now  is  to  royal  authority,  it  presents  the  same 
contrast  with  its  former  greatness  which  those  cities  present 
with  their  neighbors  in  the  petty  states  and  sovereignties  by 
which  they  are  surrounded.  Marseilles  first  lost  its  liberties 
in  the  close  of  the  twelfth  or  beginning  of  the  thirteenth 
century.  In  122G  the  citizens  repurchased  it,  and  main- 
tained it  with  all  that  spirit  which  liberty  inspires,  against 
the  counts  of  Provence,  etc,  until  the  time  of  Louis  XIV., 
Avhen  that  mighty  monarch  brought  them  under  the  yoke, 
deprived  them  of  all  their  ancient  rights  and  liberties,  and 
fenced  them  in  with  fortresses  and  citadels,  which  yet  remain 
tlie  wonder  of  the  present  day.  This  was  1G60  ;  ever  since 
which  time  it  has  languished  under  the  weight  of  royal  im- 
posts, etc.,  so  that  you  can  hardly  decide  whether  it  is  a 
living  or  a  dying  city.  Its  harbor  is  the  only  source  of  its 
])resent  importance  in  the  scale  of  French  cities,  in  which  it 
ranks  the  fourth — Paris,  Lyons,  Bourdeaux,  and  Marseilles, 
being  the  order  in  which  they  are  classed.  Its  population  is 
from  one  hundred  and  twenty  to  one  hundred  and  thirty 
thousand  inhabitants. 

"In  the  year  1720  the  plague  was  imported  irum  the 
Levant,  and  most  terribly  it  ravaged  the  whole  province  of 
Provence  ;  in  this  city  alone,  it  slew  from  llfty  to  si.xty  thou- 
sand inhabitants.  This  is  the  reason  of  the  severe  quaran- 
tine to  M'hich  I  have  been  subjected,  and  may  in  a  great 
measure  plead  the  excuse  for  that  barbarity.  The  narrow 
lanes  of  this  city — for  streets  they  are  not — and  the  high 
houses,  five  or  six  stories,  every  apartment  of  which  con- 
tains perhaps  an  entire  family,  would  afibrd  fine  riot  for  that 
dreadful  disease,  should  it  again  obtain  admission.  I  speak 
now  especially  of  the  old  city ;  the  new  part  is  not  so  con- 
structed. 


196  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

"  There  is  not  perhaps  within  the  Mediterranean  so  fine 
and  secure  a  port  as  this.  It  hes  in  the  heart  of  the  city, 
surrounded  by  high  hills,  so  that  no  wind,  not  even  the  En- 
roclydon,  which  is  spoken  of  in  the  Acts,  and  which  was 
the  cause  of  St.  Paul's  shipAvreck,  could  have  any  efiect. 
upon  the  vessels  that  enter  here.  The  port  is  very  spacious, 
but  the  entrance  so  narrow  that  two  ships  could  not  pass. 
On  each  side  of  this  entrance  is  a  strong  fortification,  which 
would  render  the  place  impregnable  :  they  are  the  work  of 
Louis  the  Fourteenth.  There  is,  however,  one  disadvantage 
connected  with  it ;  there  is  no  river  or  stream  flowing  into 
it,  and  the  water  is  therefore  never  changed.  The  tide  does 
not  raise  it  more  than  six  inches,  and  carries  away  no  part 
of"  the  ancient  filthiness.  It  is  much  like  the  Old  Dock  in 
Liverpool ;  and  you  may  conceive  what  that  would  be,  if  it 
were  not  cleansed  at  certain  seasons  :  this  is  worse,  inasmuch 
as  there  is  no  possibility  of  emitting  the  old  water.  In  the 
heat  of  summer,  I  am  told  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  walk 
near  it.  Indeed,  when  we  were  approaching  it  from  sea,  a 
slight  breeze  meeting  us  from  the  mouth  of  the  port  con- 
veyed with  it  so  filthy  an  odor,  that  I  could  scarcely  endure 
to  keep  on  deck  ;  and  yet,  sweetened  as  we  were  by  the 
Atlantic  breezes,  we  were  not  thought  pure  enough  to  enter 
the  cleanly  harbor  of  ihis  noble  city  I  You  see  I  cannot 
foi'get  my  quarantine. 

"  This  is  a  busy  season  here.  Last  Aveek  presented  strange 
sights  to  me :  what  processions  ;  what  a  profusion  of  lighted 
candles  carried  about  at  noonday,  as  though  to  put  out  the 
sun's  glare  with  their  superior  splendor  I  What  saints  on 
canvas  and  wooden  angels  did  I  not  behold ;  what  ridicu- 
lous dresses  did  the  priests  assume;  what  singing,  sighing, 
shouting,  in  every  part  of  this  Christian  city,  during  the 
solemnities  of  the  Passion  week.  And  then  on  Good-Fri- 
day— Oh,  my  soul  sickens ;  I  am  truly  sick  at  heart.  0 
Lord,  arise,  help  and  deliver,  for  thine  honor.      Yes,  my  dear 


HIS  VOYAOE  TO  FRANCE.  197 

"William,  I  have  seen  popery  in  its  dress,  its  finest  dress. 
May  I  live  to  see  it  in  nakedness,  or  at  least  till  its  skirts 
ai"e  cut  off.  It  must  come  down  ;  the  mouth  of  the  Lord 
hath  spoken  it. 

'And  terribly  shall  Babol  fall, 
And  never  more  be  found  at  all.' 

But  I  forbear  :  you  will  say  I  am  running  into  my  old 
strains  ;  well,  if  they  are  old,  they  have  improved  by  age ; 
the  more  I  try  the  power  of  licart  religion,  the  better  I  like 
it.  That  my  dear  brother  may  experience  it  in  all  its  vigor, 
is  the  constant  prayer  of  his  affectionate  and  sincere  friend 
and  brother, 

"JOHN." 

To  Ills   youngest  Sister. 

"Marseilles,  March  30,  1823. 

"  My  dear  Anne — I  have  every  disposition  to  gratify 
you,  although  the  matters  upon  which  I  may  make  obser- 
vations to  you  are  only  fit  for  such  little  tarry-at-home  trav- 
ellers as  yourself  If  I  were  to  detail  every  thing  which  I 
meet  with  in  the  manners  of  this  nation,  you  would  think 
them  a  vastly  strange  people.  It  is  necessary,  therefore,  that 
I  must  forcAvarn  my  dear  Anne  against  rash  judgment  here- 
in, and  caution  her  against  supposing  that  English  or  Amer- 
ican manners  are  any  standard  for  any  other  people  than 
EngUshmen  or  Americans.  Frenchmen  would  smile  as 
much  at  some  of  our  customs  as  we  do  at  theirs,  and  indeed 
go  farther,  even  looking  upon  us  as  semibarbarians,  in  rais- 
ing food  to  our  mouths  by  means  of  a  knife;  they  substi- 
tute a  large  silver  fork  in  its  stead,  which  they  dexterously 
manage  in  their  right  hand  :  but  what  of  all  this  ?  If  they 
think  that  an  egg  ought  to  be  broken  at  the  small  end  first, 
and  ice  think  it  should  be  at  the  broad  end,  let  both  parties 
laugh  if  they  like,  at  each  other's  supposed  ignorance,  with- 
out knocking  their  heads  together.  In  one  word,  my  dear 
Anne  must  ever  consider  that  custom  is  arbitranj,  that  is. 


198  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

as  any  people  may  choose  for  themselves ;  and  except  it 
opposes  the  laws  of  nature  or  the  settled  and  prescribed  rule 
of  the  oracles  of  God,  Ave  have  no  right  to  condemn  it. 

"What,  for  instance,  would  you  think,  if  you  saw  the 
lower  class  of  Frenchmen  wearing  wooden  shoes,  and  horse- 
cloth stockings  drawn  over  their  pantaloons  half  way  above 
the  knee  ?  and  yet  I  see  this  every  day.  Or  again,  what 
would  you  think  if  you  saw  the  women  acting  as  porters  to 
carry  loads,  while  the  men  are  lounging  about  or  sitting 
under  a  sunny  wall  side  ?  And  yet  you  would  see  groups 
of  thirty  or  forty  at  many  parts  of  the  city,  with  great  bas- 
kets, waiting  to  be  hired.  Although  both  these  examples 
which  I  have  given  do  not  recommend  themselves  as  any 
improvement  upon  our  own  habits,  yet  there  are  some  others 
in  which  the  French  appear  to  have  the  advantage.  For 
instance,  great  complaint  is  made  in  New  York  respecting 
the  adulteration  of  milk,  and  lactometers  have  been  invented 
to  ascertain  the  extent  of  the  fraud  ;  but  here  it  is  eflectu- 
ally  prevented  :  the  milkman  or  woman  brings  the  cow  to 
your  door,  and  there  milks  her  for  the  quantity  you  take, 
going  round  with  her  in  the  same  way  to  all  the  customers. 
The  greater  part  of  the  milk,  however,  is  obtained  from 
goats,  and  truly  they  are  the  finest  breed  I  ever  saw  :  we 
have  nothing  like  them  in  America.  They  are  very  large, 
and  their  fine  shaggy  hair  reaches  almost  to  the  ground. 
These  are  brought  into  this  city  in  companies  of  ten  or 
twelve  under  one  person,  and  this  every  morning.  They 
know  their  rounds  so  well  that  the  herdsman  has  no  trouble, 
and  they  go  tinkling  along  with  their  little  bells  about  their 
necks,  and  stand  at  the  doors  where  they  are  accustomed  to 
be  milked.  They  are  so  docile  that  the  keeper  has  only  to 
call  the  one  by  name  that  he  wishes  to  milk,  and  the  little 
creature  skips  upon  the  steps  and  wags  her  tail,  as  if  proud 
to  be  thus  picked  out  from  her  companions,  who  stand  by 
all  the  while,  till  the  operation  is  perlbrmed.     They  are  not 


HIS  VOYAGE   TO  FRANCE.  1<J9 

timid  like  sheep  ;  for  if  a  dog,  no  matter  how  larire,  comes 
near  them,  they  run  at  hirn  with  their  horns,  and  if  he  does 
not  make  the  best  of  his  way  from  them,  he  will  come  off 
with  the  worst  of  it.  Again,  the  industry  of  the  lower  and 
middling  classes  of  women  is  much  more  than  the  same  in 
America.  How  it  is  with  the  higher  classes  I  do  not  know ; 
but  I  suppose  they  are  much  the  same  as  their  kind  all  the 
world  over.  You  will  see  these  same  female  porters  I  spoke 
of  before  employing  their  time  in  knitting  till  they  have  a 
job  ;  and  it  would  do  you  good  to  see  them  squatting  down 
on  their  baskets  as  busy  as  bees.  Those  in  the  middling 
class,  M'ho  come  to  market  to  sell  their  little  farm  produc- 
tions— for  observe,  this  is  all  done  by  tcomen — are  busy  knit- 
ting all  the  way,  riding  upon  their  ass  or  mule  upon  the 
market  panniers.  Indeed  this  is  their  only  mode  of  convey- 
ance, as  very  few  horses  are  to  be  seen  in  this  part  of  the 
country.  I  have  often  been  delighted  with  these  signs  of 
industry.  If  a  woman  is  carrying  a  load  upon  her  head, 
her  hands  are  not  dangling  by  her  side,  but  she  knits  as  she 
trudges  on.  If  she  is  driving  home  the  market-cart,  sitting 
on  the  front  ridge,  yon  sec  her  employed  in  making  bass 
mats  all  the  way ;  and  even  if  you  slop  to  talk  with  one, 
she  will  be  working  all  the  time  she  is  talking  Avith  you. 
Surely  in  these  respects,  although  as  to  other  matters  we 
may  smile,  we  might  learn  a  useful  lesson  tor  our  fair  ones 
in  America.     Believe  me,  my  dear  child,  ever  your  aflec- 

tionate  friend  and  brother, 

'•JOHN.'' 

Such  was  the  style  of  elegant  playfulness,  in  which  his 
afiectionate  mind  condescended  to  indulge  for  the  purpose  of 
beguiling  that  anxiety  which  his  absence,  under  such  pecu- 
liar circumstances,  created  in  the  family  circle.  His  soul, 
however,  was  entirely  absorbed  in  the  grand  purpose  of  his 
life  :  "  If  thin-e  is  a  scene  within  the  universe  of  God,"  says 
he  in  a  letter  from  Marseilles,  "  calculated  to  lift  our  minds 


200  KEV.    JOHN    SUMMERFJELD. 

to  heaven,  if  there  is  a  scene  calculated  to  bring  down  the 
heavenly  host  to  earth,  it  is  that  which  portrays  in  antici- 
pation the  final  triumph  of  the  '  gospel  of  the  grace  of  God.' 
Yes,  the  gospel  must  ultimately  and  universally  triumph. 
Well  may  we  exclaim,  '  What  an  object  is  this  I'  It  is  the 
I'airest  scene  which  the  pencil  of  heaven,  dipped  in  the  colors 
of  its  OAvn  rainbow,  can  delineate ;  and  even  the  great  voice, 
issuing  from  the  eternal  throne,  can  utter  nothing  more  ex- 
hilarating and  sublime  than  the  consummation  of  this  event : 
'  Behold,  the  tabernacle  of  God  is  with  men.' " 


INCIDENTS  AT  TARIS.  201 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

WRITES  TO  THE  YOUIsG  MEN'S  MISSIONARY  SOCIETY  — PARIS- 
SPEECH  AT  THE  MEETING  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  BIBLE  SOCIETV 
OF  FRANCE— LETTERS  FROM  PARIS. 

The  reader  is  already  aware,  that  besides  the  quest  of 
health  in  a  more  mild  and  salubrious  climate,  Mr.  Sum- 
merfield's  visit  to  France  was  as  the  bearer  of  the  official 
congratulations  of  the  American  Bible  Society,  of  which  he 
was  a  director.  He  had  likeMise  been  sohcitcd,  previously 
to  his  embarkation,  to  draw  up  the  annual  report  of  the 
New  York  Young  Men's  Missionaiy  Society,  of  which  he 
was  president.  This  he  consented  to  do,  in  the  prospect  of 
having  much  time  on  his  hands  during  the  voyage.  Con- 
trary, however,  to  the  expectations  of  all  parties,  they  made 
the  passage  so  quickly,  and  the  motion  of  the  ship  was  so 
great,  that  he  was  prevented  from  accomplishing  his  design. 
Instead  of  the  jreport,  he  transmitted  from  Marseilles,  under 
date  of  February  20,  1823,  a  very  pleasing  letter,  which 
was  read  at  the  current  anniversary  in  John-street  church, 
on  the  evening  of  the  21st  of  April.  Those  who  were  pres- 
ent on  that  occasion  Avill  not  soon  forget  the  impression 
which  the  encouraging  words  of  one  so  dear  to  them,  spoken 
as  they  were  from  "a  far  country,"  and  under  such  peculiar 
circumstances,  made  on  the  minds  and  the  hearts  of  the 
meeting. 

On  the  5th  of  April,  1823,  Mr.  Summerfield  arrived  in 
Paris,  via  Lyons,  after  a  fatiguing  journey  of  six  days  and 
nights — his  health  on  the  whole  but  very  little,  if  at  all 
improved.  On  the  16th,  the  anniversary  of  the  Protestant 
Bible  Society  of  France  was  held  in  Paris.  On  this  occasion 
the  address  which  he  had  prepared,  and  which  had  been 
translated  into  French  by  the  Duchess  de  Broglie,  was  de- 
livered by  Mr.  S.  V.  S.  Wilder ;  the  author's  diffidence  of 

9* 


202  REV.   JO*HN   SUAIMERFJELD. 

his  ability  to  speak  elegantly  a  language,  in  which  never- 
theless he  was  a  proficient,  deterred  him  from  pronouncing 
it  himself.     The  following  is  the  address. 

"My  Loud — It  is  with  unallected  humility  that  I  rise 
to  address  you  upon  a  subject  which  has  now  become  too 
vast  ibr  human  description,  and  far  removed  above  the 
eulogy  of  human  praise.  The  Bible  cause  has  attained 
such  a  glorious  lustre,  that  it  is  like  a  mirror  polished  by 
the  hand  of  heaven  ;  and  the  breath  of  the  earth-born  worm 
who  attempts  to  point  out  its  beauties,  rather  sullies  than 
correctly  delineates  them.  Still,  humiliating  as  this  consid- 
eration is,  and  strange  as  the  paradox  may  appear,  we  ap- 
proach it  with  a  degree  of  confidence,  for  the  very  reason 
that  it  is  the  Bible  cause,  firmly  persuaded  that  although 
no  tongue  is  adequate  to  the  description,  yet  it  cannot  suffer 
in  the  loeakes.t  hands  ;  for  the  testimony  concerning  it  is  so 
supremely  excellent,  as  to  dignify  any  kind  of  language  in 
Avhicli  it  may  be  conveyed. 

"  I  have  the  honor,  my  lord,  to  represent  upon  this 
occasion  the  American  Bible  Society,  by  whom  I  have  been 
delegated  to  congratulate  the  sister  society  of  France  on  her 
})ast  success,  and  to  assure  her  that  the  place  which  she 
holds  in  the  sympathies  and  affections  of  her  elder  sister  in 
the  West  is  second  to  none.  1  w^ould  that  another  and  a 
worthier  representative  had  been  chosen,  or  that  my  head 
were  frosted  with  the  winters  of  threescore  and  ten,  that 
weight  of  years  might  have  combined  with  the  warmth  and 
zeal  of  youth,  to  express  the  ardency  of  her  affection  and 
esteem  ;  but  since,  by  the  grace  of  God,  I  am  what  I  am,  I 
dared  not  suffer  any  consideration  of  the  w'eakness  of  the 
creature  to  interfere  with  the  promise  of  Him  who  out  of 
weakness  can  make  strong,  and  call  forth  things  that  are 
not,  as  though"  they  were. 

"  The  statement  which  has  been  read  has  briefly  sketched 
the  leading  outlines  of  the  last  report  of  the  American  Bible 


INCIDENTS   AT    PARIS,  203 

Society  ;  and  yet,  exalted  as  must  be  the  views  of  all  who 
heard  it,  concerning  her  great  success,  I  am  provid  to  say, 
that  were  your  lordship  to  visit  our  happy  shore,  you  would 
iiiid  cause  to  exclaim  with  the  queen  of"  the  south,  when 
beholding  the  glory  of  Solomon,  'the  half  was  not  told  me.' 
Truly,  my  lord,  '  the  word  of  God  has  free  course  among 
us;'  'it  runs;'  it  outstrips  the  wind,  'and  it  is  glorified.' 
Opposition,  which  for  a  time  sliowed  its  hideous  shape,  and 
Proteus-like  assumed  another  and  another  form,  has  now 
quitted  the  field  ;  or,  if  objectors  still  remain,  they  are  like 
the  scattered  fragments  of  a  broken  enemy,  hanging  on  the 
careless  outskirts  of  the  victorious  army  by  whom  they  have 
been  conquered,  for  the  mere  pur])ose  of  teasing,  by  cowardly 
and  fruitless  annoyance,  those  whom  they  cannot  overcome. 
Every  anniversary  is  with  us  a  jubilee ;  we  then  indent 
another  and  another  to  the  thousand  triumphs  with  which 
the  monument  of  its  far-spread  lame  is  covered. 

"  Tiiere  was  a  phrase,  my  lord,  in  the  statement  I  allude 
to  with  respect  to  America,  to  which  I  Avould  oiler  a  brief 
remark.  You  have  been  pleased  to  style  it  a  free  country. 
It  is  .so  ;  but,  my  lord^  the  liberty  Avhich  reigns  thei'e  is  not 
jieculiar  to  America.  It  is  the  privilege  of  kingdoms  as 
well  as  republics;  and  the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Soci- 
ety, '  which  is  the  mother  of  us  all,'  has  demonstrated,  that 
the  more  the  people  are  acquainted  with  the  sacredness  of 
the  relation  in  w  hich  they  stand  '  to  the  powers  which  be, 
and  Avhich  are  ordained  of  God,'  the  firmer  are  the  pillars 
of  that  authority  under  which  they  are  governed  :  this  rela- 
tion can  only  be  truly  made  known  by  that  very  gospel 
which  it  is  the  sole  object  of  the  Bible  Society  to  disseminate. 
Tiie  Bible,  my  lord,  the  Bible,  I  repeat  it,  is  suited  to  every 
political  meridian  :  to  the  towering  spirit  of  the  high-minded 
republican,  it  holds  up  no  sceptre  but  tlie  sceptre  of  that 
Monarch  whose  'kingdom  is  not  of  this  world;'  while  to 
the  subjects  of  royal' y  it  j)roclaims  the  first  law  of  the  throne, 


204  REV.   JOHN    SlJMMERFllvIiD. 

'Render  unto  Cesai-  the  things  that  are  Cesar's.'  In  the 
camp,  it  sol'tens  the  rage  of  war  by  the  sweet  command  of 
peace, '  Love  your  enemies  ;'  while,  in  the  cabinet,  it  moUifies 
the  asperity  of  national  pride  by  that  injunction  of  eternal 
justice,  'Do  uulo  all  men  as  ye  would  that  they  s^hould  do 
vmto  you.' 

"The  report  of  the  I'rotestant  Bible  Society  aflbrds  a 
pleasing  testimony,  if  testimony  were  yet  needed,  that  the 
Bible  Society  is  the  cause  of  God.  I  shall  return  to  the 
land  from  whence  I  came  with  a  heart  warmed  with  what 
I  have  seen  and  heard  to-day,  and  there,  in  a  language  with 
which  I  am  more  familiar,  communicate  the  glad  news,  that 
in  France,  notwithstanding  the  torrent  of  infidelity  which 
has  been  poured  forth  within  the  last  thirty  years,  and  which 
threatened  to  deluge  the  land,  a  spark  still  survived  which 
'  many  waters  could  not  quench  ;'  and  that  now  there  are 
more  than  '  severi  thousand  men  who  have  not  bowed  the 
knee  to  the  image  of  Baal.'  I  shall  tell  them,  my  lord, 
that  in  France  there  arc  men  \\'\\o,  not  aflccted  by  the  giddy 
pinnacle  upon  which  high  descent  and  noble  birth  have 
placed  them,  have  laid  their  honor,*llieir  reputation,  their 
wealth,  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  counting  it  their  greatest 
honor  to  bear  '  the  burden  and  heat'  of  this  glorious  day,  in 
which  the  Sun  of  righteousness  is  shining  in  his  strength. 
In  a  word,  my  lord,  I  shall  tell  them  that  in  France  there 
are  kindred  souls  to  those  which  dwell  in  transatlantic  bo- 
soms, and  that  many  a  heart_is  tuned  in  full  accordance 
with  the  angel's  message,  '  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and 
on  earth  peace,  good  will  to  men.' 

"Mention  has  been  made  in  your  report  of  the  decease 
of  our  lamented  Boudinot,  the  late  president  of  the  American 
Bible  Society.  You  have  sympathized  with  us  in  our  loss. 
Although  time  has  lent  its  mellowing  hand  to  alleviate  our 
grief,  yet  still  we  mourn.  He  was,  ir  a  sense,  one  of  you  ; 
he  became  one  of  us  ;  but  God  has  put  in  his  claim  against 


INOIliENTS   AT   PARIS.  205 

US  both,  and  has  taken  him  to  himself.  He  has  been  re- 
moved to  a  brighter  scene,  to  a  higher  mount  than  Pisgah's 
top,  i'rom  whence  he  may  behold  the  progress  of  that  cause 
which  was  the  pabulum  of  the  last  years  of  his  life,  and 
kept  him  above  the  power  of  death.  But  I  dare  not  trust 
myself  to  enlarge  on  this  tender  theme  :  you  will  meet  him, 
my  lord,  after  you  have  ceased  from  your  work  and  labor  of 
love,  as  he  has  done  from  his.  I  too  look  ibrward  to  that 
scene  :  till  then  1  have  no  expectation  of  seeing  your  lord- 
ship more,  nor  this  august  assembly  over  whom  you  so 
worthily  preside  ;  but  there  we  shall  meet  again.  0  that 
we  may  all  be  found  i'aithi'ul  at  that  day,  and  counted 
worthy  to  be  crowned  with  glory  and  honor  and  immortality 
and  eternal  liie.  Then  shall  we  join  the  song  of  the  redeem- 
ed :  '  Unto  Him  that  loved  us,  and  washed  us  from  our  sins 
in  his  own  blood,  and  made  us  kings  and  priests  unto  God 
and  his  Father,  1o  him  be  gloi-y  and  dominion  for  ever  and 
ever.     Amen  '  " 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  address,  Avhicli  M"as  received 
Avith  enthusiastic  applause,  Mons.  Billing,  one  of  the  secre- 
taries of  the  Society,  rose  and  delivered  a  very  neat  and  ap- 
propriate reply.  *  *  * 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter  addressed  to  doctor 
Marinus  AYillett,  in  New  York,  just  before  Mr.  Summerfield 
quitted  Paris,  will  be  interesting  in  this  place. 

"  On  Wednesday  last  was  celebrated  the  fourth  anniver- 
sary of  the  Protestant  Bible  Society  of  France,  and  a  more 
pleasurable  sensation  I  never  experienced — no,  not  even  in 
America.  The  commission  with  which  my  brethren  in  that 
country  had  honored  me,  placed  me  in  a  much  higher  situa- 
tion than  either  they  or  I  could  ever  have  calculated  upon  ; 
and  truly  I  was  loaded  with  '  many  honors,'  as  St.  Paul's 
phrase  is.  For  a  moment  I  fancied  myself  in  New  York, 
and  could  not  but  dwell  upon  the  similarity  of  my  situation 


206  REV.  JOHN    SUMMERFIELD. 

when  I  first  addressed  the  Bible  Society  there,  and  my  pres- 
ent. I  remembered  that  I  had  just  arrived,  a  stranger  in  a 
strange  land,  unknowing  and  unknown ;  and  yet  from  that 
very  hour  what  friendships  did  not  the  providence  of  God 
lead  me  to  form — friendships  wliich  will  run  parallel  with 
the  days  of  eternity.  Here  I  was  in  a  land  still  more 
strange,  with  whose  very  language  I  was  not  familiar ;  and 
yet,  to  tell  you  of  those  Christian  hearts  who  immediately 
mingled  their  flames  of  love  with  mine,  and  formed  one  com- 
mon glow,  would  be  a  pleasing  task  indeed,  but  one  with 
the  particulars  of  which  I  should  not  like  to  gratify  my 
friend,  lest  it  might  feed  one  latent  spark  of  that  dreadfid 
vice  which  was  the  condemnation  of  the  devil,  and  Avhich 
may  yet  remain  alive  in  my  poor  heart,  although  I  assure 
you  I  am  unconscious  of  its  existence.  The  manner  in 
which  these  anniversaries  are  conducted  in  France  is  far  dif- 
ferent from  ours  ;  but  the  advantage  is  greatly  on  our  side. 
Such  is  the  jealousy  of  the  Catholic  interest,  that  a  mandate 
has  been  issued  requiring  each  speaker  to  tvrite  his  address, 
in  order  to  its  being  submitted  in  jv'oprid  forma  to  an  inquis- 
itorial committee  duly  appointed.  You  may  conceive  my 
situation  and  my  feelings :  however,  though  thus*  cramped 
up  into  the  space  of  a  nutshell,  I  complied,  and  endeavored  to 
prepare  something  that  might  not  be  obnoxious  ;  it  was  poor 
work  indeed,  and  afl'orded  no  opportunity  for  that  lively  dis- 
course which  an  unshackled  privilege  would  have  produced. 
The  Duchess  de  Broglie,  daughter  of  the  late  Madame  de 
Stael,  kindly  undertook  the  translation  of  it  into  French  ; 
and  at  the  time  appointed,  not  caring  to  read  it  myself,  on 
accomit  of"  my  ignorance  of  the  Parisian  accent,  as  it  is 
called,  Mr.  "Wilder  favored  me  with  his  services,  while  I 
stood  beside  him  like  a  statue.  It  was  received  in  a  way 
highly  flattering  to  my  American  feelings,  and  a  very  neat 
address  was  delivered  in  reply  by  Mons.  Billing,  one  of  the 
secretaries." 


INCIDENTS  AT   PARIS.  5>07 

Notwithstanding,  hoAvever,  that  Mr.  Summerfield  was 
on  this  occasion  "  flattered,  even  beyond  suflerance" — to  use 
his  own  phrase — and  met  with  the  most  aflectionate  treat- 
ment from  many  Christian  friends,  he  was  not  at  all  in  love 
with  the  French  capital.  Besides,  in  his  opinion  Paris  was 
not  the  place  for  an  invalid;  indeed,  he  doubted  "  w^hether 
a  soiaul  man  could  find  any  thing  like  ho}7ie  in  it."  In  a 
letter  to  his  father,  he  says,  "  My  health  is  much  as  when  I 
last  wrote  you  ;  my  cough,  though  somewhat  better,  yet 
remains ;  indeed,  soon  after  I  arrived  at  Marseilles,  the 
weather  took  an  unfavorable  turn,  and  it  has  been  exces- 
sively cold.  I  have  often  said,  '0  that  I  had  the  wings  of  a 
dove,'  then  would  I  fly  away  to  New  York,  and  never  think 
of  seeking  a  fine  climate  in  France  again.  I  do  not  think 
that  the  weather  is  worse  with  you  than  it  is  at  this  very 
time,  and.  Paris  is  the  dampest  place  I  have  been  in  for  a 
long  time  :  this,  with  the  keenness  of  the  air,  is  killing ; 
however,  I  will  not  terrify  you  by  saying  any  more  about 
it."  Political  afiairs,  too,  wore  a  gloomy  aspect  in  France  ; 
"and  every  body,"  says  he,  "appears  to  be  seeking  refuge 
in  their  native  land,  especially  if  tliey  have  been  so  favored 
as  to  call  that  land  England  or  America."  Happily  for 
Summerfield,  he  had  ties  of  kindred  in  both  countries  ;  hav- 
ing therefore  received  official  documents  for  the  president  of 
the  American  Bible  Society,  he  hastened  to  revisit  once  more 
the  land  of  his  nativity. 

Before  he-  left  that  gay  capital,  however,  he  gave  ex- 
pression to  the  spiritual  emotions  of  his  heart  in  the  follow- 
ing letter  to  one  whom  he  delighted  to  regard  as  his  "son  in 
the  gospel." 

To  Rev.  Thomas  B.  Sargent. 

"  Paris,  April  17,^  18-23. 

"  My  dear  Thojias — Your  letter  arrived  before  I  left 
Marseilles,  and  was  as  refreshing  as  a  water  spring  in  a  dry 
and  thirsty  land.     I  intended  to  have  opened  the  way  by 


208  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

first  writing  to  you,  and  had  already  appointed  to  do  so  from 
this  city  ;  but  you  have  tlie  preeminence.  I  do  sincerely 
thank  you  for  this  renewed  token  of  your  love,  and  in  return 
salute  you  with  all  the  warmth  of  Christian  affection  of 
which  my  poor  heart  is  susceptible. 

"  I  was  glad  to  find  that  you  had  anticipated  my  wishes 
in  furnishing  me  with  so  many  and  so  interesting  particulars 
respecting  yourself;  never  forget,  my  dear  Thomas,  that  I 
expect  you  always  to  be  the  liero  in  all  your  correspondence, 
as  much  as  JEneas  is  in  Virgil ;  every  other  person,  matter, 
or  thing,  may  come  in  by  way  of  episode,  but  I  cannot  per- 
mit that  I  should  lose  sight  of  yon  by  any  long  digressions. 
I  have  rejoiced,  yea,  and  irill  rejoice,  that  your  providential 
path  shines  brighter,  the  more  you  follow  and  observe  His 
hand, 

"  '  Who  points  the  star.s  then"  course, 
Whom  sun  and  moon  obey.' 

"  I   follow   you  through    every   scene,   and    sympathize 

with  your  every  feeling.     The  kindness  of  brother  B is 

not  more  than  I  expected  from  what  had  passed  between 
him  and  me  respecting  you ;  but,  my  dear  Thomas,  you 
know  the  friendship  of  Him  who  sticketh  even  closer  than  a 
brother.  He  invites  you  to  all  the  sweets  of  this  holy  rela- 
tion, 'The  friend  of  God.'  'Tis  the  tcnderest,  'tis  the  most 
exalted,  to  which  mortal  can  be  raised.  It  surpasses  the 
privilege  of  a  son,  though  that  entails  the  inheritance,  for 
'  if  sons,  then  heirs  ;'  it  is  the  manhood  of  a  child  of  God.  It 
is  the  privilege  of  admission  into  the  secret  chambers  of  the 
King  Invisible.  0,  my  Thomas,  it  is — and  yet  I  cannot 
utter  it ;  but  Ifed  it.  Examine  the  principles  of  the  friend- 
ship which  subsists  in  kindred  souls — say  David  and  Jona- 
than— refine  it  of  its  earthUness,  and  cast  away  the  dregs  of 
selfishness  ;  don't  be  afraid  that  it  will  volatilize  into  an 
ether  too  pure  to  realize,  a  iM-ecious  essence  will  remain ; 
now  make  '  the  high  and  holy  One '  one  party,  and  see  an 


INCIDENTS   AT    TARIS.  209 

eartli-boni  worm  the  other.  \Yhat  ardor  of  mutual  love  : 
what  openness,  what  ingenuousness,  what  frankness,  what 
contldunce,  on  the  part  of  the  creature  ;  what  complacency, 
what  stability,  on  the  part  of  the  Creator  I  While  the  one 
exclaims  in  the  midst  of  human  weakness,  '  Lord,  all  1  am 
is  known  to  thee  ;'  the  other  calms  the  rising  fear  with  the 
pweet  response,  Yet  all  1  am  is  thine. 

"But  I  arrest  myself;  I  am  getting  into  depths  which  I 
cannot  fathom,  and  yet  into  which  I  delight  to  plunge.  0, 
the  fulness — the  bottomless  abyss — the  depth.  Does  my 
Thomas  often  here 

'"Bathe  his  weary  soul?' 
Does  he 

"  '  Thirst  and  faint  and  die  to  prove 
The  greatness  of  redeerauig  love  ?' 

'  He  shall  be  tilled;'  '  the  mouth  of  the  Lord  hath  spoken  it.' 
"  I  regret  to  read  in  your  letter  the  ill  state  of  health  of 
my  dear  friends  in  Eighth-street ;  still  in  the  furnace,  and 
still  unconsumed  ?  surely  the  Son  of  man  is  with  them ; 
their  heavenly  Father  would  now  teach  them  deep  things. 
Though  the  chapter  of  atilictions  contains  many  things  hard 
to  be  understood,  yet  this  should  not  discourage  or  make  us 
faint  therein  ;  it  is  one  of  the  finishing  lessons,  for  even 
'  Christ  was  made  perfect  through  sufferings.'  I  confess  we 
are  naturally  fond  of  turning  over,  like  a  schoolboy,  and 
beginning  a  new  jMge  ;  but  'the  old  is  better  :'  with  regard 
to  myself,  1  often  fear  that  I  have  tliiimbcd  it  so  much,  as 
to  render  illegible  some  of  the  lines,  and  that  I  am  kept  at 
the  old  place  till  I  spell  them  out.  May  the  Lord  help  me 
by  his  Spirit  to  commit  to  heart  these  deep  things  of  God. 

And  may  my  dear  Mr.  and  Mrs.  C out  of  weakness  be 

made  strong,  and  know  with  me  that 

'• '  Afflictions  from  His  sovereign  hand. 
Are  blessings  in  disguise.' 

"  My  health  will  be  inquired  after  among  your  friends  : 


210  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

well,  I  find  myself  gaining  strength  every  day ;  I  find  the 
rouge  of  nature  returning  to  my  livid  cheeks,  and  think  if 
I  were  weighed  I  should  be  many  pounds  heavier  ;  but — 
and  these  '  bats '  mar  every  thing — my  cough  continues. 
Yet  that  is  somewhat  improved  ;  at  times  I  think  that  it  is 
the  door  through  which  my  spirit  will  ere  long  take  its 
flight :  it  is  an  ope?i  door,  and  unless  Providence  should  close 
it,  I  cannot  hope  for  long  life.  I  am  in  his  hands  ;  he  will 
do  all  things  well. 

"  Remember  me  to  your  father  most  affectionately,  as 
also  to  your  good  mother — yours  and  mine.  0  that  my  dear 
Thomas  may  never  need  the  attentions  of  a  stranger  as  I  did 
in  Race-street,  when  his  own  mother  is  no  more.  And  yet, 
should  such  need  require  it,  may  he  find  some  stranger's 
hand  to  bear  him  up  and  cheat  him  of  a  mother's  loss,  as  I 
(lid  at  that  awful  hour.  Remember  me  to  your  brothers 
and  sisters,  also  to  any  other  friends  that  may  inquire. 
"  Ever  sincerely  and  aficctionately  yours, 

"J.  SUMMERFIELD." 


HIS   VISIT  TO  ENCILAND.  211 


CHAPTER   XV. 

ARRIVES  IN  ENGLAND— FAIKFI?:LD— PREACHES  AT  LIVERPOOL— 
LETTERS— ATTENDS  THE  CONFERENCE  AT  SHEFFIELD— VISITS 
IMANY  OTHER  PLACES— HIS  HEALTH  BUT  LITTLE  IMPROVED— 
PORTRAIT— LETTERS. 

Mr.  Summerfield  on  his  arrival  in  England  sought  the 
Moravian  settlement  at  Fairfield,  near  Manchester,  at  which 
place  as  already  stated  he  had  spent  five  happy  years  at 
school,  and  where  one  of  his  uncles  continued  to  reside. 
Here  he  found  one  of  his  cousins,  a  young  man  twenty-one 
years  of  age,  lying  in  the  last  stage  of  a  consumption.  Del- 
icate as  was  his  own  health,  he  devoted  himself  assiduously 
to  administer  such  friendly  assistance  and  spiritual  consola- 
tion to  his  dying  relative,  as  the  nature  of  the  case  required. 
For  a  full  fortnight  he  tenderly  watched  the  death-bed  of  his 
beloved  cousin ;  nor  did  he  leave  him  till  death  had  closed 
his  eyes.  It  was  the  only  instance  during  his  ministry,  in 
which  he  had  been  called  upon  to  see  a  person  die ;  and  his 
feelings,  as  may  be  supposed,  were  exercised  a  good  deal  on 
the  occasion. 

In  the  month  of  November,  1828,  the  writer  of  these 
pages  paid  a  visit  to  Fairfield,  in  company  with  his  esteemed 

friend  Mr.  J.   E of  Manchester.       Interesting   as  this 

tranquil  retreat  of  such  an  exemplary  churcli  community  as 
the  United  Brethren  must  have  been  to  the  visitors  under 
any  circumstances,  yet  on  the  present  occasion  the  goiiiis 
loci  derived  its  principal  charm  from  its  association  with  the 
history  of  Summerfield,  in  whose  memory  they  felt  mutually 
interested.  There  was  the  school-room  in  which  he  had 
been  taught,  with  the  book  containing  the  records  of  his 
entry  and  departure  as  a  scholar ;  and  a  number  of  happy 
tyros  "disporting  on  the  margent  green"  of  the  enclosure,  as 
he  had  done  in  his  day.  There  was  the  chapel  with  its  fine 
organ,  the  tones  of  which  he  liad  so  mu  h  delighted  to  ac- 


212  REV.  JOHN  SUMMERFIELD. 

company  with  his  juvenile  voice,  for  he  was  ever  fond  o£ 
singing.  There,  in  one  of  the  dwellings,  were  more  touch- 
ing memorials  of  his  later  visit :  an  engraved  likeness  ;  the 
couch  beside  which  he  knelt,  while  reading  to  and  praying 
for  his  cousin  Joseph  ;  his  little  American  pocket  Testament 
left  behind,  with  a  leaf  still  turned  down  at  1  Corinthians, 
15;  and  the  presence  of  his  uncle  himself,  who,  with  his 
eyes  overflowing  with  tears,  referred  to  the  incidents  of  this 
last  earthly  interview.  And  lastly,  the  neat  sequestered 
cemetery,  so  remarkable  for  its  simplicity,  where — to  adopt 
a  single  line  from  the  poet,  whose  description  of  the  bury- 
ing-place  of  the  patriarchs  in  "The  World  before  the 
Flood,"  is  supposed  to  be  delineated  from  a  Moravian  grave- 
ground — 

"The  little  heaps  are  ranged  in  comely  rows,'" 

and  over  one  of  which  the  surname  of  '■  Snmmcrfield"  was 
inscribed.*  This  visit,  so  interesting  from  these  associa- 
tions, was  rendered  yet  still  more  so  by  the  courteous  afiu- 
bility  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Pohlman,  the  resident  min- 
.  ister  and  his  lady. 

Mr.  Summerlield  was  invited,  and  actually  aimounced 
to  preach  in  the  chapel  at  Fairfield — a  distinction  never 
conferred  upon  a  Methodist  preacher  before — and  a  large 
congregation  assembled  accordingly  ;  but  the  arrival  of  an 
olficial  visitor  at  the  time,  and  the  death  of  the  resident 
bishop,  Moore,  prevented  this. 

To  Mrs.    Blackstock. 

"  Fairfield,  near  Manchester,  June  11,  1823. 

"  My  dearest  Ellen — Your  Imig  and  grateful  letter 
came  to  me  this  morning ;  it  had  been  left  at  Fairfield  by 

Mr.  C yesterday,  although  I  lost  the  pleasure  of  seeing 

him,  having  gone  to  Manchester.      Last  night  I  spent  an 

*   "Joseph  Summerfiekl,  departed  June  8,  1823,  aged  21  years." 


HIS  VISIT  TO  ENG-LAND.  213 

hour  or  two  with  Mr.  S ;  he  proceeds  to-day  to  Shef- 
field and  Leeds,  where  I  expect  also  to  be  in  ten  days  or  a 
fortnight,  but  must  first  proceed  to  Liverpool  to-morrow.  In 
Amelia's  letter,  I  have  mentioned  the  afflictions  of  my  uncle's 
family  :  it  calls  to  my  mind  my  OAvn,  and  especially  on  tliis 
very  day  last  year.  Mr.  B.  will  never  forget  that  day,  when 
standing  by  my  bed  in  Doctor  Sargent's  chamber:  every 
moment  I  expected  my  change,  and  having  no  power  to 
speak  on  account  of  the  incessant  bleeding  from  my  lungs,  I 
made  signs  for  a  writing-table,  and  being  bolstered  up  in  bed 
in  a  sitting  posture,  I  wrote  the  enclosed  paper  :*  it  was 
never  seen  by  any  other  eye  ;  and  in  giving  it  to  you,  it  is 
not  for  any  other  reason  than  to  put  yon  in  mind  of  that  day, 
and  to  excite  your  gratitude  and  thanksgiving  to  Him  who 
held  my  head  above  the  water-floods,  and  again  said,  '  Live  I' 
Oh  that  it  may  be  to  his  honor  and  glory  I 

"  "With  regard  to  my  spared  life,  I  can  say  little  as  to  its 
Jong  continuance  ;  certainly  I  shall  never  see  threescore 
years  and  ten  :  I  am  only  anxious  to  live  to  the  Lord  while 
I  live,  and  die  to  him  Avhen  I  die,  that  living  or  dying  I 
may  be  the  Lord's." 

On  Sunday  the  22d  of  June,  he  preached  in  Leeds-street 
chapel,  Liverpool.  "  It  is,"  says  he,  when  writing  home, 
"the  first  time  since  my  arrival  in  England;  and  yet,  al- 
though I  name  this  to  show  you  that  I  am  not  quite  dead, 
you  must  not  infer  that  because  I  have  begun  I  shall  con- 
tinue :  no,  it  will  be  very,  very,  very  seldom  repeated,  and 
I  shall  always  inform  you  when  it  is."  His  journal  was 
altogether  neglected  during  the  year  of  his  sojourn  in  Eng- 
land ;  but  it  is  gratifying  to  learn  from  the  following  ex- 
tvact — indeed  from  his  correspondence  generally,  that  while 
his  body  was  confined  by  the  weakness  of  the  flesh,  his  soul 
was  at  the  same  time  progressing  in  holiness. 

*  This  \p\{cY  i^nclosed  thf  testamentary  paper  given  page  151. 


214  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

To  Dr.   Samuel   Baker. 

"LivERPoni,,  June  23,  1823. 

"My  dear  Friend  and  Brother — I  know  you  will  ex- 
pect to  hear  something  concerning  myself — and  this  is  the 
cross  which  my  friends  compel  me  to  bear  daily  ;  I  would 
rather  write  on  any  other  subject.  Well,  then,  I  find  that 
Jesus  Christ  is  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever.  He 
is  ray  unchangeable  friend.  He  is  my  all,  and  in  all.  Of 
late  he  has  been  tempering  down  the  natural  hardness  of 
my  heart,  that  it  may  receive  some  deeper  impressions  of 
the  mind  which  was  also  in  him.  I  mourn  over  the  base- 
ness of  the  material  upon  which  this  is  to  be  wrought,  but 
still  I  do  feel  that  the  more  I  contemplate  and  behold  the 
glory  of  my  Lord,  the  more  I  am  changed  into  the  resem- 
blance of  the  original  by  the  Spirit  ol"  the  Lord.  But  what 
have  I  said  ?  And  yet  is  not  this  the  very  perfection  of  our 
dispensation  ?  0  that  we  may  pre&s  after  the  fulness  of  the 
stature  of  a  man  in  Christ  Jesus.  I  have  lately  dwelt  much 
on  those  inexhaustible  words  of  the  apostle  John :  'Beloved, 
now  are  we  the  sons  of  God ;  and  it  doth  not  yet  appear 
%vhat  ive  sJtall  be.'  I  cannot  grasp  them  :  there  is  a  world 
of  meaning  in  them.  'It  doth  not  yet  appear.'  It  is  not 
yet  made  manifest;  but  it  shall  appear,  and  the  world  which 
now  knoweth  us  not,  shall  witness  the  manifestation  of  the 
sons  of  God  ;  for,  conformed  to  our  Head,  'we  shall  be  like 
him.'  What  can  this  mean?  Utterance  fails — the  heart 
cannot  conceive. 

'"'We  fall  before  liis  feet, 

And  silence  heightens  heaven.'' 

"  As  regards  my  poor  body,  it  is  yet  compassed  about 
with  infirmitieri  ;  my  general  health  is  tolerably  good,  and 
except  this  cough,  of  which  I  complain,  I  am  as  I  have  been 
since  I  knew  you.  My  cough  is  of  a  singular  character, 
for  although  I  expectorate  considerably  with-  it,  no  weak- 
ness is  produced,  and  my  natural  strength  is  good.      I  can 


HIS   VISIT   TO   ENGLAND.  215 

walk  for  hours  without  fatigue,  and  cat  my  food  abundantly 
and  with  good  relish.  I  am  living  with  a  physician  in  this 
town,  with  whom  I  have  been  associated  from  my  childhood, 
and  brought  up  at  the  same  school,  and  almost  fed  at  the' 
same  table.  Yesterday  morning  I  preached  for  the  first 
time  in  England  in  one  of  the  largest  chapels  iu  this  town, 
and  felt  no  inconvenience  consequent. 

"  Remember  me  affectionately  to  all  my  friends  in  Balti- 
more, and  first  of  all  to  my  friend  and  brother  Soule.  Up- 
braid him  for  not  having  written  to  me  ;  and  yet  this  would 
come  with  no  weight  from  you,  seeing  you  are  in  the  same 

condemnation.      Mrs.  D ,  Mrs.  B ,  E ,  and  all 

the  children,  share  my  love. 

"Believe  me  to  remain, 

"My  dear  doctor,  ever  yours, 

"J.  SUMMERFIELD." 

At  the  "physician's  house"  alluded  to  in  the  preceding 
letter,  "I  had,"  says  the  E.ev.  \Y.  Stewart,  "the  pleasure  of 
meeting  my  beloved  Summerfield.  I  was  greatly  affected 
at  witnessing  his  pale  and  emaciated  appearance.  I  in- 
quired of  the  doctor  in  his  absence,  '  Do  you  think  it  possi- 
ble Mr.  Summerfield  can  recover  ?'  The  doctor  replied, 
'With  great  care  he  may  live  two  years,  but  he  cannot 
possibly  live  longer.'  In  this  the  doctor  manifested  his  con- 
summate skill,  both  with  reference  to  the  case  and  constitu- 
tion of  his  friend.  My  very  heart  sighed,  and  said,  'Alas, 
my  brother.'  " 

On  the  ne.x^t  day  he  wrote  again  to  his  young  friend,  now 
in  the  ministry. 

To  the  Rev.  Tliomas  B.   Sargent. 

'■  Liverpool,  2-ltli  June,  1S33. 

"My  dear  Thomas — I  must  now  stop.     I  see 

I  have  filled  one-third  of  my  letter  with  the  cases,  of  a  per- 
sonal pronoun — I  was  going  to  say  with  the  declensions  of 
one — but  perhaps  it  is  rather  an  impi-oper  term. 


216  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

"And  now,  my  dear  Thomas,  I  come  to  you — though 
last,  not  least — and  yet  I  am  pausing  what  to  say;  indeed, 
1  want  words  for  matter.  And  so  you  are  now  lully  em- 
ployed, that  is,  as  much  as  your  other  duties  will  permit,  in 
making  known  to  men  the  word  oi'  reconciliation.  0,  had 
I  the  wings  of  a  dove,  with  what  delight  I  could  now  sit 
under  your  shadow  at  the  foot  of  the  pulpit.  Your  image 
is  ever  before  me,  nor  do  I  need  any  Inauer  to  remind  me  of 
every  feature ;  but  then  I  never  properly  saw  them  lighted 
up  by  the  shining  forth  of  the  candle  of  the  Lord  within  you 
when  standing  in  the  character  of  ambassador  of  God. 

"Oh,  my  dear,  dear  Thomas,  I  have  sweet  remembrance 
of  you  in  my  prayers,  being  mindful  also  of  your  tears.  I 
am  Ji/lcd  with  joy  ;  yea,  I  am  very  full  of  comfort.  My 
Father  who  is  in  heaven  has  mingled  no  such  sweet  in  my 
cup  as  that  which  you  afford  me.  '  1  live,  if  you  stand  fast 
in  the  Lord.' 

"'Happy,  if  with  tliy  latest  breath 
Thou  may'st  but  gasp  his  name, 
Preach  him  to  all,  and  cry  in  death, 
BohoIJ,  beht.lil  the  Lamb.' 

"Yes,  my  dear  Thomas,  exalt  the  Lamb.  'He  is  wor- 
thy.' Hang  every  spoil  you  have  gained  from  the  enemy 
upon  his  cross,  and  lay  every  honor  you  may  receive  from 
men  at  his  feet.  I  do  long  to  see  you  ;  nor  will  any  one 
thing  in  America  tend  to  hasten  my  return  more  than  to  be 
'somewhat  filled  with  your  company.'  I  shall  see  you  now 
with  other  eyes ;  no  longer  the  keeper  of  the  sheep-fold,  but 
the  anointed  of  the  Holy  One,  to  bear  his  name  among  the 
Gentiles.  Walk  worthy  of  thy  high  calhng,  and  great  shall 
be  thy  reward  in  heaven. 

"  Write  to  me  again  and  again  and  again.  Remember 
me  to  my  foster-mother.  Put  her  in  mind  of  the  eleventh 
day  of  this  month  last  year.  I  thought  of  her  on  that  day, 
lor  I  read  in  her  anxious  face  at  that  time,   'there  is  but 


HIS    VISIT   TO   ENCrLAND.  217 

a  stc}}  between  Ihce  and  death.'     God  bless  her  a  thonsand- 
ibld. 

"Present  my  respects  to  all,  and  beheve  me,  my  dear 
Thomas, 

"Thine  till  death, 

'^J.   SUMMERFIELD.- 

To  Samuel   Harden,   Esq. 

"Liverpool,  July  10,  1S23. 

"My  health  is  much  as  whdn  I  last  wrote;  the  Good 
Physician  still  holds  me  in  lile,  though  with  a  slender  thread. 
I  do  not  yet  knoAV  the  end  oi"  his  dealings  with  me  in  this 
respect ;  but  he  is  too  wise  to  err,  and  too  good  to  be  unkind. 
He  will  do  all  things  well.  I  cannot  promise  myself  long 
life,  as  far  as  human  reasoning  directs,  though  with  God  all 
things  are  possible.  All  my  desire  is,  that  I  may  yet  stand 
before  him  in  his  sanctuary  a  little  longer,  to  point  poor  sin- 
ners to  the  scene  on  Calvary — the  bleedhig  Jesus. 

"My  heart  was  j:nuch  rejoiced  yesterday  by  a  circum- 
stance little  looked  for.  A  man  called  upon  me  to  acknow- 
ledge me  his  spiritual  father,  of  whom  I  had  not  the  most 
distant  recollection.  He  lives  in  Aiklow  in  Ireland,  and 
having  heard  that  I  was  in  England,  he  set  of]'  for  no  other 
])ur])ose  than  to  lay  his  eyes  on  me,  as  he  said,  once  more. 
He  informed  me  that  four  years  ago,  as  I  was  preaching  in 
that  town  in  the  open  air — 'for  no  other  place  was  large 
enough  to  contain  the  multitude' — God  converted  his  soul, 
and  gave  him  a  clear  evidence  of  his  acceptance,  which  he 
has  since  retained.  He  reminded  me  of  the  text  on  the 
occasion — '  They  that  sow  in  tears  shall  reap  in  joy ' — and 
I  found  that  he  had  the  sermon  almost  written  upon  his 
heart.  These  are  comfortable  results  of  our  weak  labors  ; 
we  see  not  now  the  fruits;  it  is  often  not  until  after  the 
laborer  has  fallen  asleep,  that  the  seed  springs  up  ;  and  the 
death  of  the  minister  has  often  given  birth  to  many  precious 
souls  who  had  been  heretofore  only   liearers  of  the  Avord. 

SuniniprfieM.  1  0 


218  REV.   JOHN    STJMMERFIELD. 

May  this  thought  comfort  us  continually,  and  may  we  know, 
in  more  than  their  primary  sense,  the  application  of  the  apos- 
tle's words,  'For  me  to  live  is  Christ,  but  to  die  is  gain.' " 

In  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Blackstoclc,  dated  Liverpool,  July  10, 
1S23,  occurs  the  following  passage  :  "Your  second  letter  of 
the  13th  is  almost  exclusively  devoted  to  the  subject  of  my 
health  and  my  return  home.  I  know  they  are  both  inter- 
esting subjects,  and  often  mix  themselves  with  the  fireside 
conversation,  and  often  alFord  a  theme  to  break  the  silence 
which  sometimes  exists  in  the  chief  seat  of  the  table.  My 
health,  and  my  return  home  I  I  feel  myself  growing  dull,  or 
rather  sorrowful.  Home  is  a  word  which  has  a  spell  in  it, 
and  I  am  now  operated  upon  by  it  almost  to  a  momentary 
melancholy.  Sometimes  I  view  the  di.stance  as  so  great, 
and  so  measure  the  ocean  that  rolls  between  us,  that  I  start 
and  say,  'Shall  I  ever  see  that  place  again?'  At  other 
times  I  am  so  buoyant  that  I  consider  it  but  as  tivo  stejJS, 
by  one  of  which  I  take  my  foot  ofi' Europe,  and  by  the  other 
set  it  on  America.  I  believe,  however,  both  these  ways  of 
viewing  it  are  erroneous  :  they  arc  the  extremes.  May  God 
help  me  to  overcome  all  difficulties,  and  bring  me  to  the 
desired  haven."  His  letters  to  his  younger  sisters,  to  his 
father,  and  to  Mr.  Blackstoek,  breathe  similar  sentiments. 

At  this  date  he  also  wrote  the  two  following  delightful 
letters  to  young  men  whom  he  watched  over  with  the  ten- 
derness of  a  father  in  the  gospel. 

To    Rev.   William  M.   WiUett. 

'•  LivERPooi,,  10th  July,  182.3. 

"My  dear  William,  whom  I  love  in  the  truth — It  is 
but  a  few  days  since  I  learned,  by  letters  from  America, 
that  you  have  now  put  on  the  harness  of  the  Christian  min- 
ister. To  describe  to  you  my  feelings  on  this  account  would 
be  imjmssihlc.  AYhcn  I  read  the  intelligence,  my  licart 
fluttered  in  such  a  manner  that  I  knew  not  which  was  the 
greater  exciting  cause — }o\.  or  hope,  or  fear.      Even  when 


HTS   VISIT   KiENGLAND.  219 

the  passions  subsided,  I  thoutrht  I  could  find  more  oi  anxiety 
in  the  preponderating  scale  than  of  any  other  feeling.  Oh, 
my  dear  WilUam,  what  shall  I  say  ?  I  am  not  painfLdbj 
fearful  concerning  you,  hut  I  am  inezp-essibly  anxious  for 
the  result.  I  have  confidence  in  you  in  all  things  ;  but  then 
you  have  entered  upon  an  nnheaien  path,  a  path  which  you 
never  trod  before.  You  have  commenced  a  warfare,  not 
against  flesh  and  blood,  but  against  principalities  and  pow- 
ers, against  the  rulers  of  the  darkness  of  this  world,  against 
spiritual  wickedness  in  high  places.  You  have  now  left  the 
ranks,  and  become  a  leader  under  the  Captain  of  our  sal- 
vation ;  and  honorable  as  is  the  step  you  have  taken,  yet  it 
cannot  be  disguised  from  you,  that  by  this  step  you  have  set 
yourself  as  a  mark  to  the  powers  of  hell,  who  will  direct 
against  you  instruments  of  warfare  and  modes  of  temptation, 
which,  as  a  inivate  member  of  the  church,  yo\i  might  have 
for  ever  remained  a  stranger  to.  The  god  of  this  world  is 
well  aware  that  if  he  can  produce  'Cs\&  fall  or  defection  of  the 
standard-bearer,  the  people  will  flee  every  man  to  his  own 
house,  and  panic-struck,  never  again  rally  under  the  banner 
of  the  cross.  He  knows  that  when  great  limbs  are  severed 
from  the  tree,  many  twigs  will  fall  with  ihem  ;  or,  in  plain 
language,  the  falling  aAvay  of  him  Avho  has  preached  to 
others,  is  more  calculated  to  destroy  the  flock  of  Christ  than 
all  the  open  warfare  whioli  the  devil  or  his  agents  could 
inaintaiu  against  them. 

"But  I  check  myself  AYrite  I  these  things  to  hinder 
you  ?  Nay,  but  as  my  beloved  son  I  warn  you ;  and  if  I 
have  succeeded  in  casting  you  down  for  a  moment,  it  is  that 
you  may  know  where  your  place  of  safety  lies.  The  cross, 
my  dear  William,  the  foot  of  the  cross,  nntst  be  your  resting- 
place  ;  the  Crucified  must  be  the  object  ever  before  your 
mind  ;  '  Without  thee  I  can  do  ?iothing,'  nmst  ever  be  ou 
your  tongue,  and  that  from  unfeigned  lips ;  and  every  honor 
which  the  Head  of  the  church  may  put  upon  you,  must  be 


220  REV.   JOHN   StJMMERFIELD. 

hung  as  a  tropliy  on  his  cross,  while  'not  unto  one,  not  unto 
me,  but  unto  thy  name  be  all  the  glory,'  must  be  the  lan- 
guage of  your  heart.  If  you  walk  by  this  rule,  and  mind 
this  same  thing,  the  gates  of  hell  will  not  be  able  to  prevail 
against  you ;  you  will  stand  forth  in  all  the  might  of  an 
ambassador  of  God.  Your  word  will  be  with  power  :  shak- 
ing and  trembling  will  seize  the  sinner,  w^hile  the  believer 
will  recognize  in  you  an  apostle,  not  of  men,  neither  by  the 
will  of  man,  but  of  God  the  Father,  and  Jesus  Christ  whom 
he  raised  from  the  dead.  May  the  Lord  give  you  under- 
standing in  all  things. 

"  I  trust  that  the  hardships  of  the  circuit  to  which  you 
have  been  appointed  will  be  no  stumbling-block  to  you.  It 
is  nothing  compared  with  what  I  endured  the  first  two  years 
of  my  ministry  in  the  various  parts  of  Ireland,  by  night  and 
by  day  ;  and  if  ever  I  grew  weary  and  faint  in  my  mind,  I 
applied  to  the  Strong  for  strength,  and  thus  always  found 
that  his  grace  was  sufficient  for  me,  and  that  he  caused 
strength  to  be  imparted  to  me  proportioned  to  my  need. 
My  dear  William,  keep  eternity  full  in  view,  and  the  recom- 
pense  of  reward,  and  you  will  find  it  the  best  antidote  either 
against  all  the  treasures  of  Egypt,  or  all  the  alllictions  you 
may  be  called  upon  to  sufler.  Remember  you  are  in  a 
warfare,  and  seek  not  for  eaae ;  and  may  God  give  you 
grace  to  acquit  yourself  as  a  good  soldier  of  Jesus  Christ. 

"  My  paper  fills  up,  and  my  heart  is  not  at  all  discharged 
of  its  burden.  I  have  much,  very  much  to  say  ;  but  I  ivill 
not,  I  cannot  do  it  with  paper  and  ink.  Soon  I  hope  to  see 
you  face  to  face.  Meantime,  get  '  Clark's  Letter  to  a  Young 
Preacher  ;'  make  it  your  own  by  digesting  its  invaluable  con- 
tents :  it  is  in  our  book-room,  and  is  worth  its  weight  in  gold. 

"  Farewell.  May  God  bless  you,  and  ever  have  you  in 
his  holy  keeping. 

"  Allectionately  your  fellow-servant, 

"J.  SUMMERFIELD." 


HIS  VISIT  TO  ENG-LAND.  22\ 

To   Rev.   Thomas   B.   Sargent. 

'•Liverpool,  lOtii  July,  1823. 

"My  PRECIOUS  Thomas — I  should  have  been 

glad  to  hear  from  you  after  the  Philadelphia  conference, 
anxious  to  know  what  preachers  you  have  among  you.  From 
New  York  I  have  received  intelligence  respecting  that  city  ; 
among  the  rest,  that  William  "\Yillett  has  been  appointed  to 
the  east  end  of  Long  Island.  I  cannot  but  regret  this,  as  I 
fear  the  breaking  in  will  be  too  severe.  I  have  written  to 
him  by  this  packet  to  cheer  him  up  ;  I  trust  that  God  will 
support  him,  strengthen  his  hands,  and  confirm  his  knees, 
and  hold  him  on  the  even  tenor  of  his  way.  I  am  fond  of 
pleasing  myself  with  the  conjecture  that  perhaps  Thomas 
is  also  thus  employed,  and  that  the  reason  of  his  silence  is 
the  bustle  of  preparing  for  his  outgo ;  such  as  getting  saddle- 
bags, horse,  whip,  etc.,  and  packing  up  his  linen,  with  \\es- 
ley's  hymns  and  pocket  Bible.  Well,  should  it  ?iot  be,  the 
time  may  come,  and  if  you  prevent  not,  ivill  come.  I  be- 
lieve that  God  has  certainly  called  you  to  be  a  minister  in 
the  gospel  of  his  dear  Son.  Be  not  thou  disobedient  to  the 
heavenly  call,  and  be  thou  faithful  therein,  neither  receive 
this  grace  of  God  in  vain.  The  fathers  are  passing  away, 
and  breaches  are  daily  making  in  the  ranks  of  the  standard- 
bearers  :  Oh  that  God  would  raise  up  a  host  of  pious  youths 
ardently  waiting  to  catch  the  standards  ere  they  fall  from 
the  veterans  of  the  cross  ;  that  instead  of  the  fathers  may 
be  the  children,  and  yet  the  children's  children. 

"  Remember  me  affectionately  to  my  friends.  My  health 
is  much  as  when  I  last  wrote,  and  my  soul  is  athirst  for  all 
the  salvation  of  God.  Last  Sabbath  I  .ij.>isted  in  adminis- 
tering the  Lord's  supper  to  about  six  hundred  people ;  the 
Lord  supped  with  us,  and  made  our  feast  a  little  heaven. 
Farewell,  my  dear  Thomas.  Still  remember  me,  as  I  also 
do  you.     Ever  aflectionately  yours, 

•'J.  SUMMERFIELD.-' 


vi22  REV.   J(JHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

Oil  the  30th  ot"  June,  the  Britisli  conference  opened  at 
Sheflield,  at  which  place  it  is  held  once  in  six  years.  At 
this  celebrated  mart  of  cutlery  Mr.  Suininerfield  spent  about 
a  week,  during  which  he  was  domiciled  with  my  worthy 
friend  T B ,  Esq.,  partaking  the  elegant  hospitali- 
ties of  this  gentleman's  house  with  his  old  and  valued  friend 
Dr.  Townley  and  the  Rev.  Mr.  France,  who  having  trav- 
elled at  Preston,  was  not  unknown  to  his  family.  His 
appearance  was  very  unhealthy ;  his  countenance,  formerly 
so  fair  and  delicate,  appeared  to  be  pufled  up  and  slightly 
cadaverous  in  its  hue.  He  complained  chiefly  of  a  pain  in 
his  side,  which  was  so  violent  one  night,  that  in  the  morn- 
ing he  told  Mrs.  B ,  who  nursed  him  with  a  mother's 

care,  that  he  had  with  difliculty  refrained  from  calling  them 
up,  in  order  to  obtain  the  assistance  of  a  surgeon  to  open 
a  vein. 

At  this  conference,  to  the  sittings  of  which  Mr.  Sum- 
merfield  was  freely  admitted  and  treated  with  great  respect, 
the  Rev.  Messrs.  Richard  Reece  and  John  Hannah  were 
appointed  to  proceed  to  the  United  States,  to  reciprocate 
the  friendship  of  the  American  conference,  which  had  been 
expressed  four  years  belbre  by  their  representative  the 
Rev.  John  Emory.  It  was  agreed  that  Mr.  Summerfield, 
on  his  return  home,  should  accompany  these  gentlemen  to 
America.  *  ^  * 

After  his  return  from  Sheliield,  and  having  visited  among 
other  places  Frodsham,  Birmingham,  Manchester,  Liverpool, 
and  Runcorn,  he  took  up  his  residence  with  Anthony  Bad- 
ley,  Esq.,  a  gentleman  of  piety  and  fortune,  then  residing  at 
Weston  Hill,  near  the  hitler  place.  While  under  the  roof  of 
his  kind  entertainer,  a  portrait  was  painted  of  this  "in  every 
respect,  extruonlinarij  ipung  man,"  as  Summerfield  is  just- 
ly designated  by  Mr.  B .  This  picture,  which  the  wor- 
thy owner  regards  as  a  "  beautiful  likeness,"  has  been  by 
him  courteously  transmitted  iijr  the  author's  inspection  :  may 


HIS   VISIT   TO   ENGLAND.  223 

Mr.  B be  long  spared  to  conleinplate  this  precious  me- 
morial of  such  a  friend  in  his  present  residence — Llanrhydd 
House,  in  the  far-famed  and  beautiful  vale  of  Clwyd,  North 
Wales. 

To  D r     Thomas  Sargent. 

"  Liverpool,  August  15,  1823. 

"  My  dear  Friend — Having  promised  you  the  earliest 
intelligence  from  the  English  conference,  which  was  con- 
cluded but  two  days  ago,  and  from  which  I  have  just  return- 
ed, I  lose  no  time  in  forwarding  it  to  you  by  the  packet  which 
sails  to-morrow.  The  appointment  has  devolved  upon  Mr. 
Reece,  and  a  second  has  also  been  appointed  to  accompany 
him,  Mr.  John  Hannah,  a  junior  preacher  of  six  or  seven 
years'  standing,  but  a  young  man  of  respectable  talents  ;  they 
take  their  departure  in  March  next. 

"  I  look  forward  with  great  solicitude  to  our  approaching 
General  Conference  ;  I  hope  much,  but  I  fear  tyiore :  I  am 
anxious  that  the  report  borne  back  by  our  English  brethren 
may  establish  that  high  character  of  us  with  which  Mr. 
Emory's  talent  and  worth  and  piety  possessed  them,  and 
that  their  aflection  to  America  with  which  he  reinspired 
them,  may  become  confirmed  and  durable  :  but  then  this 
long-agitated  question — 0  that  it  were  buried  in  the  bottom 
of  the  sea  I  arul  it  may,  if  there  should  be  a  sea,  an  ocea?i  of 
love,  among  us  at  the  time.  Let  us  begin  to  pray  for  an 
outpouring  of  the  spirit  of  meekness,  oi"  brotherly-kindness, 
and  at  the  same  time  of  heavenly  wisdom ;  that  while  we 
possess  the  wisdom  of  the  serpent,  we  may  connect  with  it 
the  harmlessness  of  the  dove.  Remembering  that  Jesus  is 
yet  the  Head  of  the  church,  let  us  s])read  the  case  before 
him  :  he  has  long  held  us  in  his  right  hand,  yea,  in  the  hol- 
low  of  his  hand  ;  soon  shall  we  see  that 

"'His  purposes  will  ripen  fast, 
Unfolding  every  hour ; 
The  bud  may  have  a  bitter  taste, 
But  sweet  will  be  the  flower.' 


224  REV.  JOHN   yUMAlEK-l'IELl). 

"  A  very  serious  and  awi'ul  occurrence  took  place  at  the 
opening  of  conlerence,  and  had  a  solemnizing  eflect  during 
the  whole  of  its  session  :  a  coach  in  which  were  seven  preach- 
ers on  their  journey  to  this  annual  assembly,  was  overturn- 
ed ;  only  one  escaped  unhurt ;  one  died  in  a  few  hours,  his 
name  was  Sargent ;  a  second  died  on  the  second  day,  and 
others  are  lying  dangerously  ill,  mangled  Mnd  bruised  to  a 
frightful  degree.  Oh,  how  mysterious  I  Surely  '  He  plants 
his  footsteps  in  the  sea :'  we  cannot  track  his  design  herein  ; 
may  it  preach  to  each  of  us,  '  Be  ye  also  ready ;  for  in  such 
an  hour  as  ye  think  not,  the  Son  of  man  cometh.'  Fare- 
well. 

"  Ever  affectionately  yours, 

'•J.  SUMMERFIELD.'' 

Towards  the  latter  end  of  the  year,  he  opened  a  hand- 
some new  chapel  at  Bilston  in  Suffolk  ;  it  is  to  a  print  of 
this  house  that  he  refers  in  the  last  clause  of  the  following 
extract  from  a  letter  to  his  youngest  sister  :  "  I  have  of  late 
more  resembled  the  wandering  Arab  than  the  domestic 
European,  and  have  literally  had  no  certain  dwelling-place. 
However,  lest  you  should  imagine  that  like  the  Arabian,  I 
have  been  dwelling  in  tents,  and  not  in  ceiled  houses,  I  send 
you  an  engraving  of  one  of  my  visiting  places — and  a  most 
lovely  one  it  is  as  ever  you  saw." 

To  Dr.   Samuel   Baker. 

"Liverpool,  October  2-1,  1823. 

"The  climate  of  England  has  been  more  congenial  to 
me  in  every  respect,  Lthan  that  of  France,]  and  I  rejoice  to 
say  that  my  inner  man  is  renewed  day  by  day ;  I  love  my 
Master,  and  I  love  his  work  ;  1  love  his  wages,  and  I  love 
his  servants  ;  and  if  I  hate  any  thing,  it  is  my  own  life — for 
I  count  not  my  life  dear  to  me,  that  I  may  finish  my  course 
with  joy,  and  the  ministry  which  I  have  received  of  the 
grace  of  God  As  respects  my  bodily  health,  it  is  greatly 
improved,  and  1  now  look  forward  with  some  well-grounded 


HIS    VISIT   TO   ENG-LANJL*.  225 

hope  that  I  shall  bo  restored  again  to  your  prayers,  it'  it  he 
hut  for  a  little  season. 

"  I  am  now  directing  my  face  towards  America  ;  God  is 
my  record  how  greatly  I  long  after  you  all.  Early  in  the 
year  I  hope  to  take  my  departure ;  but  you  shall  hear  from 
me  before  that  time,  so  as  to  know  my  final  arrangements. 
I  have  just  returned  from  Birmingham,  where  I  have  spent 
a  month  most  dehghtfully  ;  I  was  a  good  deal  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Foxall,  who  are  both  well,  and  now  travelling  among 
Mr.  F.'s  relations  in  "Wales."' 

To  Rev.   Til 0 m a s  B  .   S a r g « n t . 

"  Liverpool,  October  24,  1823. 

"  My  dear  Thomas — It  is  now  a  mouth  since  I  wrote  to 
you,  but  'tis  an  age  since  I  heard  from  you.  I  suppose  you 
are  reserving  all  your  good  sayings  until  I  can  receive  them 
fresh  from  your  own  lips  ;  and  yet  I  still  think  that  you  have 
such  an  abundance  of  them  that  the  stock  would  bear  a  con- 
siderable reduction  without  any  sensible  diminution  :  surely 
you  might  inclose  me — if  it  were  but  half  a  dozen — feelings 
of  your  heart,  made  tangible  in  the  form  of  words ;  and 
I  promise  you,  if  you  knew  how  I  prize  them  you  would 
do  so. 

^  "  My  own  letters  to  America  are  now  drawing  to  a  close ; 
early  in  the  year  I  hope,  by  the  good  hand  of  my  God  upon 
me,  to  embark  for  my  much-loved  home.  My  health  is  so 
much  improved  that  I  preach  about  once  a  week,  and  find 
moderate  exercise  in  this  way  beneficial.  I  am  aware  that 
in  the  bare  mention  of  this  I  am  rousing  all  your  anxieties, 
but  then,  though  I  can  keep  nothing  from  you,  I  assure  you, 
at  the  same  time,  that  I  am  much  more  prudent  than  I  have 
ever  been,  and  your  fears  are  groundless.  I  confine  myself 
to  preaching  on  Sunday  morning,  never  choosing  an  evening 
appointment  ;  indeed,  I  generally  liouae  myself  after  five 
o'clock,  and  tMijoy  my  friend  and  his  fireside  :  tca-parlie&  I 

10* 


226  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

havo  aUogctlier  laid  aside,  and  my  friends  know  they  need 
use  no  importunity  to  prevail  on  me.  By  this  means,  and 
extreme  care  in  my  clothing,  regularity  in  my  exercises,  and 
great  attention  to  my  diet,  but  above  all,  through  His  bless- 
ing concerning  whom  we  sing, 

'Except  the  Lord  conduct  the  plan, 
The  best  concerted  schemes  are  vain. 
And  never  can  succeed' — 

through  His  blessing  I  am  what  I  am,  and  to  him  shall  be 
devoted  all  that  life  he  bestows,  even  to  its  latest  moment  of 
existence.  0  that  he  would  make  me  fully  conformed  to 
the  image  of  his  Son. 

"  I  trust  my  dear  Thomas  is  growing  in  grace — striking 
his  roots  deeper  into  that  rich  soil  of  humble  love  in  which 
all  the  graces  of  the  Spirit  thrive  ;  and  while  he  is  feeling 
after  these  depths,  I  trust  he  is  also  overtopping  the  tallest 
cedars  of  Lebanon,  and  clustering  on  every  bough  with  all 
the  fruits  of  righteousness,  which  are  by  Christ  Jesus,  unto 
the  glory  and  praise  of  God  the  Father. 

•'  Remember  me  aflectionately  to  your  dear  pai'ents ;  I 
M'rite  to  them  tlirouglb  you :  may  my  dear  Thomas  ever  be 
worthy  of  them. 

"  Ever  yours,  etc., 

"J.  SUMMERFIELD.-' 

The  following  letter  was  addressed  to  captain  Williams, 
a  member  of  the  Baptist  church,  owner  of  the  fine  ship  Six 
Brothers,  before  referred  to. 

"  RuiNxoRN,  December  22,  1823. 

"My  dear  Captain  Williams,  my  Christian  friend  and 
brother,  whom  I  love  in  the  truth — At  this  season  of  the 
year  it  is  natural  that  1  should  have  you  much  upon  my 
mind.  Not  that  I  have  ever  forgotten  you,  for  God  is  my 
record  that  I  have  good  remembrance  of  you  in  my  prayers ; 
but  at  this  time  especially,  when  I  am  reminded  of  my  de- 


HIS  VISIT   TO    ENU-LAND.  227 

pailure  from  my  family  and  friends,  as  on  this  week  a  year 
ago,  I  cannot  but  connect  with  this  recollection  the  grateful 
feelings  which  pervade  my  whole  soul  towards  you.  I  have 
never  thought  of  you  but  with  aflection ;  and  I  have  won- 
dered what  could  have  moved  your  unmerited  kindness  to 
me,  who  was  altogether  a  stranger  to  you.  It  was  not  the 
'friendship  of  the  world  :'  this  induces  every  man  to  look  on 
his  oion  things  only,  and  weigh  accurately  the  profit  that 
would  accrue  from  every  transaction  ;  but  your  disinterested 
kindness  bears  a  higher  stamp  than  nature  ever  impressed. 
I  see  in  it  the  counterpart  of  an  apostle's  doctrine :  '  Loving 
Him  that  begat,  we  love  them  also  that  are  begotten  of 
him ;'  and  unworthy  as  I  am  to  be  accounted  a  disciple  of 
our  common  Lord,  yet  you  have  done  what  you  have  done 
in  regard  to  this  relationship.  I  can  only  endeavor  to  heap 
blessings  on  your  head  :  thaiiks  is  a  poor  return ;  and  in 
reference  to  my  friends,  I  should  mourn  over  my  poverty 
much  more  if  I  did  not  remember  who  hath  said,  '  A  cup  of 
cold  ivatcr  given  to  a  disciple  in  the  name  of  a  disciple,  shall 
not  lose  its  reward.'  I  can  boldly,  therefore,  transfer  my 
debt  to  Him  who  has  promised  to  repay.  I  feel  confident 
that  my  God  will  supply  to  you  all  my  lack  out  of  his  riches 
in  glory  by  Christ  Jesus.  Thanks  to  you,  my  dear  friend, 
again  and  again  ;  and  may  the  incarnate  Immanuel,  whose 
advent  into  this  lower  world  we  at  this  season  commemorate, 
take  up  his  residence  within  your  heart,  and  sanctify  you 
throughout,  body,  soul,  and  spirit.  This  is  the  will  of  God 
concerning  you,  aird  faithful  is  he  that  hath  called  you,  who 
also  will  do  it.  Be  strong  in  the  faith  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  hold  fast  that  which  you  have  attained,  and  p/t'ss 
on;  that  when  you  fail  on  earth,  you  may  be  received  into 
everlasting  habitations.     Amen  and  amen. 

"If  you  sec  captain  Mason,  remember  me  affectionately 
to  him.  He  was  every  thing  to  me  that  I  could  wish,  a 
father,  a  nurse,  a  servant ;  and  with  all  the  trouble  I  gave 


228  REV.    JUllJSt    aUMMERFlELD. 

him  through  my  weakness  ol'  body,  he  never  seemed  weary 
of  serving  me  to  the  utmost  of  his  power.  May  God  reward 
him  a  hundred-fold.     Farewell. 

"  Your  aiiectionate  friend  and  servant, 

"J.  SUMMERFIELD." 

In  a  letter  to  his  father  under  the  same  date  as  the  pre- 
ceding, Mr.  Sumrnerdeld  wrote  as  follows — and  the  intelli- 
gence was  melancholy  indeed  with  reference  to  a  gentleman 
who  had  shown  him  no  small  kindness  in  the  United  States  : 
"When  I  reflect  upon  the  loss  of  many  of  my  friends  and 
acquaintance  in  the  past  year,  who  promised  a  long,  long 
term  of  years,  I  am  lost  to  know  why  I  linger  here  below. 
This  morning  I  have  received  the  intelligence  of  the  sudden 
death  of  Mr.  Foxall.  He  was  fully  calculating  on  returning 
to  America  with  me  and  brother  Ileece.  A  few  weeks  ago 
I  parted  with  him  full  of  health,  and  now  he  is  no  more. 
'Be  ye  also  ready.'  is  sounding  in  my  ears  ever  since."' 

On  the  10th  of  February,  1821,  he  wrote  to  his  old 
class-leader  the  Rev.  Patrick  French,  then  a  Wesleyan  mis- 
sionary on  the  island  of  Antigua  in  the  West  Indies. 

■'RuNcoiiN,  near  Liverpool,  February  10,  1824. 

"My  ever  nKLovEU  Father  and  Friend,  whom  I  un- 
ceasingly love  in  the  truth — What  shall  I  say  unto  you  ? 
Not  that  the  dilliculty  arises  in  the  want  of  matter,  but  in 
the  selection  from  that  abundance  of  it  which  now  presses 
upon  my  mind  the  moment  I  undertake  to  write  to  you. 

"  Although  I  have  been  in  England  ever  since  the  month 
of  May  last,  I  have  not  been  able  to  visit  Ireland.  I  thought 
I  perceived  an  unwillingness  on  the  part  of  the  Irish  preach- 
ers ;  indeed  I  scarcely  think  they  have  from  their  hearts 
forgiven  me  lor  leaving  them  :  but  the  authority  of  a  par- 
ent, and  that  a  2>wifs  one,  compelled  the  change,  and  I  am 
now  satisfied  that  the  good  hand  of  my  God  was  with  me. 
He  has  prospered  me  in  America,  above  all  that  I  could 
have  asked  or  thought ;  but  1  dare  not  trust  my  own  heart 


UlS    VISIT   TO   ENG-LANLi.  229 

to  enter  into  particulars — 'tlie  day  shall  declare  it.'  lu  ref- 
erence, however,  to  my  much-loved  Ireland,  I  am  now  quite 
relieved  by  two  letters  I  have  received  within  the  last  week 
from  my  best  friend  in  all  that  country — my  dear  William 
Steivart.  I  only  regret  that  I  cannot  now  accept  his  invi- 
tation to  come  and  receive  at  the  mouths  of  many  the  wel- 
come of  their  'inside  hearts,'  as  he  calls  it.  But  alas,  with 
all  this  there  is  mingled  the  intelligence  that  brother  Steele 
is  gone  to  his  reward.  0  that  we  may  ever  stand  with  our 
loins  girded  up,  ready  to  follow  the  Bridegroom  whenever  he 
appeareth. 

"I  am,  as  ever, 

"Yours,  in  the  best  of  bonds, 

"J.  SUMMERFIELD." 

His  friend  Mr.  Badley  having  removed  from  Weston  Hill 
to  Linacre,  to  avoid  the  winter's  blast,  to  which  the  for- 
mer situation  was  exposed,  Mr.  Summerfield  accompanied 
him  to  this  new  residence,  and,  says  he,  January  29,  1824, 
"A  more  delightful  spot  I  could  not  have  chosen."  "  Since 
my  last,"  he  observes,  "I  remain  much  as  usual  ;  indeed  I 
am  like  a  'creaking  gate'  whose  hinges  are  half  consumed, 
but  yet  it  hangs  on."  From  this  retreat  he  Avrote  again  to 
Mr.  Blackstock,  "  Mth  of  February,  1S24."  This  letter  was 
the  last  he  wrote  from  England. 


230  REV.  JOHN  SUMMEIiFIELD. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

KETURNS  TO  AMERICA— LETTERS— ATTENDS  THE  BALTIMORE 
CONFERENCE— ORDAINED  AN  ELDER— APPOINTED  A  MISSION- 
ARY WITHIN  THE  BOUNDS  OF  BALTIMORE  CONFERENCE- 
LETTER  TO  ENGLAND— EXTRACTS  FRO!\I  DIARY— COLLECTIONS 
FOR  THE  MISSIONARY  SOCIETY— AT  ^ALTIMORE  IN  EXTREME 
DEBII-ITY. 

Mr.  Summerfield  had  now  been  fifteen  months  absent 
from  America ;  and  although  the  latter  moiety  of  that  pe- 
riod had  been  spent  in  England,  the  land  of  his  nativity, 
and  amid  generous  friends  and  Christian  brethren  who 
evinced  towards  him  the  greatest  respect,  he  felt  neverthe- 
less that  he  was  from  home.  His  bowels  yearned  towards 
his  father,  his  brothers,  and  sisters,  whom  in  recollection,  as 
•well  as  in  imagination,  he  saw  assembled  about  the  domestic 
hearth,  the  happiness  of  which  he  knew  suflered  some  dim- 
inution on  account  of  his  absence  ;  and  where  he  could  not 
but  fancy  he  might  find  that  repose  which  appeared  still  to 
be  so  necessary  for  the  reestablishment  of  his  shattered 
health.  But  above  all,  he  sighed  to  be  again  engaged  in 
that  blessed  work  of  calling  sinners  to  repentance,  to  which 
his  whole  soul  was  so  entirely  given  up. 

On  the  16th  of  March,  1824,  he  bade  farewell,  alas,  a 
final  farewell,  to  England,  and  embarked  on  board  the 
Orbit,  captain  Tinkham,  and  on  the  19th  of  April  arrived  in 
New  York,  "  contrary  to  all  my  expectations,  with  a  slight 
degree  of  improved  health." 

His  return  to  America  had,  as  before  intimated,  been 
expected  by  a  packet  vessel  which  saUed  in  February  ;  and 
how  cordial  a  welcome  awaited  him  from  one  who  is  now 
a  bishop  of  that  church  of  which  he  was  a  minister,  will  bo 
seen  from  the  following  extract  of  a  letter  written  by  the 
Ilev.  Joshua  Soule  from  Baltimore,  March  25,  and  address- 
ed to  Mr.  Summerfield  at  New  York  :  "I  received  informa- 


LABORS  IN   AMERICA.  231 

liou  through  the  Commercial  Advertiser,  oi'  the  arrival  of 
the  packet  and  the  names  of  the  passengers,  the  morning 
previous  to  the  receipt  of  your  letter,  and  I  shall  not  attempt 
to  describe  my  feelings  when  I  read  the  names  of  Messrs. 
Reece  and  Hannah,  and  found  not  yours — but  my  painful 
apprehensions  were  but  for  a  clay  ;  and  I  assure  you,  when 
1  ascertained  that  the  cause  of  your  delay  was  not  sickness, 
or  any  peculiarly  adverse  providence,  I  rejoiced  with  thanks- 
giving. Welcome,  thrice  welcome,  my  dear  John,  to  the 
shore  of  my  native,  and  your  adopted  home." 

Three  days  after  his  arrival  he  attended  the  anniversary 
of  the  missionary  society,  and  on  the  Sunday  following  he 
preached  at  Brooklyn,  New  York,  to  an  overflowing  congre- 
gation. 

The  highly  spiritual  state  of  his  mind  may  be  inferred 
from  the  following  letters. 

To  Rev.   Thomas  B.   Sargent. 

"  New  Yoek,  April  26,  1824. 

"  My  dear  Thomas — I  suppose  you  have  long  thought  it 
was  high  time  for  me  to  write  to  you,  and  indeed  so  it  is ; 
but  if  you  knew  how  much  I  have  been  occupied  since  my 
return,  you  would  at  least  palliate  the  oflence,  if  not  alto- 
gether exculpate  me.  You  have  been  much  on  my  mind, 
in  my  heart,  and  on  my  tongue  ;  my  heart's  desire  and 
prayer  to  God  for  you  is,  that  he  would  open  your  way, 
exalt  the  valleys,  bring  down  the  mountains,  make  the 
crooked  places  straight  and  the  rough  places  plain,  and  thus 
clearly  mark  out  for  you  the  path  in  which  he  would  have 
you  to  go.  Remember,  that  difficulty  is  a  word  which  has 
no  meaning  when  applied  to  Him  :  it  is  not  in  heaven's 
vocabulary  ;  power  belongs  to  God.  Look  out  of  yourself, 
and  altogether  upon  him :  let  your  heart  ever  say,  '  Lord, 
here  I  am  ;  what  wouldst  thou  have  me  to  do  V  Ever  feel, 
that  though  in  yourself  all  weakness,  you  '  can  do  all  things 
THROUGH  Christ  which  strengtheneth  you.' 


232  REV.   JOHN    SUMMERFIELD. 

"  I  do  believe,  mj^  dear  Thomas,  that  the  Lord  will  yet 
hold  you  like  a  star  iii  his  right  hand,  by  which  he  will  illu- 
uiiuale  the  churches.  0  that  I  may  live  to  see  it ;  then, 
indeed,  will  my  very  heart  rejoice.  My  dear  Thomas,  seek 
to  lose  yourself  altogether  in  the  will  of  God.  Have  no 
choice  ol"  your  own ;  neither  hope  nor  desire,  but  according 
to  the  will  of  God.  If  ho  will,  do  you  will  ,  if  he  nill,  do 
you  nill ;  mark  his  finger  in  every  thing  relating  to  you  : 
remember,  your  hairs  are  all  numbered  ;  and  if  he  regard 
tJtese,  no  circumstance  which  can  happen  to  you  is  too  trivial 
for  him  to  overrule  to  your  eternal  welfare.  Take  up  every 
cross  ;  never  turn  aside  to  avoid  one,  you  will  always  hnd 
tico  in  the  place  of  it ;  go  into  every  open  door,  and  cry  unto 
Hmi  continually  to  be  endued  with  power  from  on  high. 
Let  your  religion,  like  the  apostle's,  be  summed  up  in  this 
comprehensive  expres.sion,  'God,  whose  I  am,  and  whom  I 
serve  :'  make  an  entire  surrender  of  a  whole  heart  to  a  per- 
fect Saviour  ;  thus  will  you  realize  the  first  part  of  this  sen- 
tence, '  whose  I  am  :'  the  second  part  will  follow  as  a  con- 
sequence. Feel  yourself  the  servant  of  Jesus  Christ ;  this 
was  the  highest  character  ever  aspired  after  by  the  great 
apostle  of  the  Gentiles ;  at  the  feet  of  his  Lord  he  had  laid 
his  character,  reputation,  talent,  nay,  his  lite  itself:  in  this 
re.'^pect  our  Wesley  also  imitated  him  : 

"  '  Take  my  soul  and  body's  powers ; 
Take  my  memory,  mind,  and  will ; 
All  my  goods  and  all  my  hours, 
All  I  know  and  all  I  feel ; 
All  I  think  and  speak  and  do ; 
Take  my  heart,  and  make  it  new." 

Thus  indeed  will  you  become  a  new  creature  :  old  things  will 
be  passed  away  ;  behold,  all  things  will  become  new. 
"  Ever  your  very  affectionate 

"  Friend  and  brother, 

•■J.  SUMMERFIELD." 


LABORS   IN   AMERICA.  233 

To  Mr.  Samuel  Harden. 

"New  York,  April  30,  1824. 

"  My  dear.  Friend  and  Brother — I  ieav  that  your  high 
expectations  respecting  my  health  will  be  humbled  by  our 
interview  ;  but  I  am  alive,  and  why  should  a  liviJig  man 
complain  ?  My  only  anxiety  on  the  subject  is  connected 
with  the  church  of  God.     I  wish  to  be  fully  etiicient,  that 

"  '  All  my  powers,  with  all  their  might, 
Li  her  sole  gloiy  may  unite.' 

However,  I  am  in  His  hands  who  can  hold  me  up,  and  make 
my  bow  abide  in  strength  :  my  heart  ever  cries  out, 

"  '  0  for  a  trumpet  voice 
On  all  the  world  to  call.'  " 

On  the  1st  of  May  he  proceeded  to  the  general  confer- 
ence held  in  Baltimore,  halting  by  the  way  to  preach  at 
Philadelphia.  His  emotions  may  be  better  conceived  than 
described,  on  being  thus  permitted  once  more  to  hold  forth 
the  word  of  God  in  the  city  where,  two  years  before,  his  life 
had  been  despaired  of.  Great  as  had  been  his  former  popu- 
larity, he  still  found  the  Philadelphians  his  "  unchangeable 
friends ;"  his  reception  was  equal  to  his  expectations. 

He  attended  the  sittings  of  this  conference,  and  on  the 
19th  of  May  he  was  ordained  elder.  The  Rev.  Richard 
Reece,  from  England,  preached  the  preparatory  sei'mon,  and 
bishop  M'Kendree  presided  ;  bishops  George  and  Roberts 
were  also  present.  "I  was  presented,"  says  he,  "by  my 
valued  friend  and  brother,  now  my  bishop,  Soide ;  and  he, 

with  Rev.  E.  C ,  F.  G ,  J.  W ,  assisted  in  the 

laying  on  of  hands.  To  describe  my  feelings  is  impossible  ; 
it  was  a  day  never  to  be  forgotten.  I  renewed  my  vows 
unto  the  Lord,  in  the  presence  of  the  most  august  assembly  I 
ever  expect  to  meet  on  this  side  of  heaven."  *  *  * 

In  consequence  of  the  precarious  state  of  his  health,  and 
by  the  advice  of  physicians,  he  was  appointed  by  this  con- 


234  REV.   JOHN    SUMiMERFlELD. 

fercnce  a  missionary  within  its  limits  for  the  ensuing  year, 
with  liberty  to  visit  any  region  north  or  south,  as  his  physi- 
cians should  recommend.  *  *  * 

May  29th,  Mr.  Summerfield  returned  to  New  York, 
"  exhausted  in  body,  depressed  in  mind,  but  confiding  in  the 
God  of  providence  and  grace."  In  a  letter  to  Dr.  Baker 
he  remarks,  "  We  had  a  tedious  journey  of  it;  and  although 
I  rested  at  home  the  whole  of  yesterday,  I  still  feel  the 
effects.  My  sister  was  still  more  jaded,  and  prefers  staying 
at  home  to  accompanying  me  into  the  city  ;  however,  after 
the  fatigue  is  over,  I  hope  we  shall  both  show  that  the  kind- 
ness of  our  friends  in  Baltimore  has  produced  '  marrow  in 
our  bones.'  For  my  own  part,  my  friends  here  speak  very 
flatteringly  of  the  change  in  my  appearance.  I  hope  it  may 
be  permanent,  and  that  my  future  stay  among  you  may 
tend  to  the  prosperity  of  my  body  and  my  soul." 

He  preached  in  Brooklyn  at  the  dedication  of  a  new 
Methodist  church,  on  the  Gth  of  June  ;  the  Rev.  J.  Hannah 
from  England  preached  on  the  same  occasion.  And  on  the 
following  Sunday,  he  occupied  the  pulpit  in  John-street 
church.  New  York.  In  connection  with  this  service  he  re- 
marks, "  I  never  remember  so  gracious  a  time  under  my 
feeble  ministry." 

After  the  close  of  the  sittings  of  the  general  conference, 
he  M-rote  by  the  English  delegates  to  his  esteemed  friend 
Anthony  Badley,  Esq.  : 

"The  work  of  God  in  this  country  is  extending  and 
widening  on  every  side.  We  have  had  to  increase  the  num- 
ber of  our  annual  conferences  from  twelve  to  seventeen,  and 
to  ordain  two  new  bishops  at  the  general  conference,  so  that 
we  have  now  five  superintendents.  I  know  not  Avhere  it  will 
stop  ;  but  God  forbid  that  it  should  ever  c«ase  until  the  know- 
ledge of  the  glory  of  the  Lord  shall  cover  the  whole  earth. 

"I  trust  that  the  report  which  Mr.  Recce  will  be  pre- 
pared to  make  to  the  British  conference  will  fully  realize  my 


LABORS   IN   AMEHICA.  235 

warmest  anticipations.  I  believe  that  both  he  and  Mr. 
Hannah  have  been  more  than  satisfied — '  The  half  had  not 
been  told  them.'  As  it  regards  themselves,  they  have  given 
universal  satisfaction. 

"At  their  parting  with  us  at  the  general  conference  at 
Baltimore,  I  never  saw  a  more  aflecting  scene  :  the  confer- 
ence stood  up,  while  the  bishops,  on  behalf  of  the  whole 
church,  gave  them  the  right  hand  of  fellowship,  and  bade 
them  a  long  farewell.  Mr.  Hannah  joined  in  solemn  prayer 
before  they  withdrew,  and!  was  responded  to  with  groanings 
which  cannot  be  uttered.  Our  senior  bishop,  now  grey  with 
age  and  broken  down  with  care,  followed  him,  and  recipro- 
cated in  fervent  petitions  all  the  superabundance  of  spiritual 
blessings  on  the  English  connection,  which  the  former  had 
supplicated  for  the  American  church.  It  was  a  struggle  foi 
the  mastery ;  but  love  was  the  contest,  and  each  was  in 
turn  the  conqueror  and  the  conquered. 

"We  again  stood  upon  our  feet,  while  our  venerable 
apostle  pronounced  the  benediction.  But  I  cannot  describe 
the  scene  :  every  eye  was  sufiliscd  with  tears  ;  business  was 
suspended  ;  silence  reigned,  except  when  it  was  disturbed 
by  the  breaking  forth  of  feelings  which  could  not  be  sup- 
pressed. They  left  us,  never  to  return  ;  and  the  senior«bishop 
accompanied  them  to  the  ship,  sorrowing  most  of  all  that 
we  should  see  their  face  no  more.  Oh,  I  felt  at  that  mo- 
ment, and  we  all  felt,  that  the  Spirit  of  Christ  lives  among 
us.  I  fell,  and  we  all  felt,  that  Methodism  is  one  wherever 
it  is  Ibund — that  like  seed  producfts  like  fruit.  Oh,  I  felt, 
and  we  all  felt,  that 

"  '  Mountains  may  rise  and  oceans  roll 
To  sever  us,  in  vain.' 

I  saw  that  the  prayer  of  our  great  High-priest  had  prevailed, 
'  that  they  may  all  be  one.'     I  was  abundantly  satisfied. 

"  But  it  is  now  high  time  to  express  my  anxieties  coii- 
iJerning  my  friend  in  Linacre.     May  I  hope  to  4iear  from 


236  REV.   JOHN   SUMMEE,F1ELD. 

you  '.'  Oh,  favor  me  with  this  additional  token  of  your  love. 
How  are  you  pros])ering  ?  I  mean,  in  spiritual  riches,  for 
in  this  world's  goods  the  great  Proprietor  of  all  has  given 
you  richly  all  things  to  enjoy.  But  the  true  riches,  the 
unsearchable  riches,  the  gold  tried  in  the  fire :  are  you 
abounding  in  these  ?  Abounding  I  yes  ;  for  He  has  said, 
'  Ask  what  ye  will,  and  I  will  do  it  for  you.'  With  Him  it 
is  only  ask  and  have  ;  but  then  '  ask  in  faith,  nothing  doubt- 
ing.' They  are  all  yours,  purchased  by  the  precious  blood 
of  Christ,  promised  to  all  who  come  unto  God  by  him, 
oflered  by  the  Holy  Spirit  without  money  and  without  price. 
Oh,  my  dear  friend,  put  in  your  claim  for  the  fulness,  the 
whole  fulness ;  honor  God  by  beheving,  for  the  accomplish- 
ment of  his  uttermost  salvation,  and  you  shall  be  saved  with 
all  the  power  of  an  endless  life. 

"  Yours,  with  all  sincerity, 

^•JOHN  SUMMERFIELD." 

After  corresponding  with  Dr.  Baker  on  the  propriety  or 
impropriety  of  his  visiting  the  city  of  Baltimore  in  the  middle 
of  summer,  he  resolved,  in  accordance  with  professional  ad- 
vice, to  mal'e  a  missionary  excursion  northward,  in  the  com- 
pany of  a  gentleman  from  New  York.  He  was  at  this  time 
so  feeble  that  he  dreaded  to  undertake  the  journey ;  and  yet, 
says  he,  "I  was  fit  for  nothing  else."  He  took  the  steam- 
boat to  Albany,  at  which  place  he  joined  his  companion,  ia 
whose  carriage  they  proceeded  through  New  York  state 
into  Vermont,  and  to  Middlebury,  where  they  arrived  on 
the  31st  of  July. 

To  those  who  knew  and  loved  as  he  deserved  the  sub- 
ject of  these  memoirs,  it  cannot  be  uninteresting  to  trace  his 
progress  through  the  brief  remnant  of  his  ministerial  career. 
The  very  names  of  the  places  which  he  visited  will  form 
memorials,  interesting  to  the  recollections  of  many  who  will 
delight  to  recall,  with  the  pious  memory  of  the  preacher, 
the  scenes  and  circumstances  which  distinguished  his  minis- 


LABORS  IN  AMERICA.  237 

trations.  To  avoid  tautology,  and  at  the  same  time  to  iden- 
tify Mr.  Summerfield  himself  as  much  as  possible  with  the 
progress  of  his  mission,  it  Avill  be  best  generally  to  quote 
from  a  very  laconic  diary,  which  he  kept  after  his  return  to 
America,  such  entries  as  may  appear  interesting. 

"August  1,  1824.  Preached  in  Middlebury  on  Sabbath 
morning,  and  was  so  exhausted  in  consequence  that  the  re- 
mainder of  the  day  was  indeed  a  burden  to  me  ;  but  the 
Lord  blessed  my  soul. 

"  4th.  Preached  in  the  Presbyterian  church,  taking  up 
a  missionary  collection  for  our  Indian  missions  amounting 
to  twenty  dollars. 

"  8th.  Sunday.  Preached  again  in  our  church ;  and 
never  did  I  experience  so  great  an  increase  of  health  and 
vigor  as  in  the  past  week.  My  health  seems  renewed  like 
the  eagle's. 

"  10th.  Preached  in  Burlington,  in  the  court-house,  to  a 
'polite  audience,  and  spent  an  agreeable  afternoon  at  the 
house  of  the  governor."  He  was  a  brother  of  Judge  Van 
Ness  of  New  York. 

"  11th.  Proceeded  as  far  as  Montreal  in  Canada;  even 
here  I  found  many  friends. 

"  12th.  Addressed  the  anniversary  assembly  of  the  Mon- 
treal Bible  Society. 

"  15th.  Preached  this  morning  in  the  Methodist  chapel; 
our  society  here  is  supplied  by  missionaries  from  the  British 
conference. 

"  16th.  Visited  the  Indian  settlement  of  Goughnawaga  ; 
a  Catholic  priest  resides  among  them. 

"  18th.  Preached  again  in  Montreal  in  behalf  of  the 
Lancasterian  free-school,  and  collected  one  hundred  and  ten 
dollars. 

"  20th.  Preached  in  the  Socinian  church,  Burlington,  at 
their  earnest  request.  I  bless  God  that  I  had  courage 
sufficient  to  prevent  me  from  keeping  back  any  part  of  the 


238  REV.   JOTTN   SiaTMERFTELD. 

counsel  of  God.     They  were  ofiended,  and  refused  to  come 
to  hear  me  agnin. 

•'  22d.  Sunday.  Preached  in  the  Presbyterian  church, 
and  raised  a  collection  of  thirty-four  dollars  in  aid  of  our 
missions. 

"  23d.  Departed  from  Middlehury,  and  arrived  safely  at 
Pleasant  Valley,  in  New  York  state,  on  Friday  followdng  ; 
where  I  preached  the  same  evctiiag  to  such  a  congregation 
as  we  could  raise. 

"  29th.  I  preached  at  Poughkeepsie  tivice.  This  is  the 
first  venture  of  the  kind  I  have  made  since  my  hemorrhage 
in  1822.  I  found  myself  so  far  improved  by  this  my  jour- 
ney, that  I  was  less  fatigued  than  I  had  been  by  preaching 
once  on  the  first  Sabbath  at  Middlehury.  In  the  afternoon 
I  accepted  the  ofier  of  the  Reformed  Dutch  church,  being 
the  most  spacious  in  the  toAvn,  Next  day  I  took  my  de- 
parture for  New  York,  where  I  arrived  safely  on  Tuesday, 
the  31st  inst.,  after  an  absence  of  five  weeks.  My  health 
is  now  better  than  it  has  been  for  some  years;  so  that  I  am 
persuaded  this  journey  was  of  God." 

To  Bootor   S.^mviel   Baker. 

"  New  Yohk,  September  6,  1824. 
"  My  dear  Doc:tor — I)i  laboring  more  abundantly  than 
T  have  done  at  any  period  since  my  affliction  in  Philadel- 
phia, I  have  been  supported  by  the  great  Physician  of  body 
and  soul  ;  and  while  strengthened  in  the  inner  man,  I  have 
found  also  that  the  tabernacle  has  undergone  considerable 
repair,  and  that  my  health  is  much  improved.  How  long 
this  mercy  may  be  continued  to  me  I  know  not.  I  wish  to 
improve  it  to  its  full  extent,  and  work  while  it  is  called  to- 
day. I  feel  that  I  hold  life  by  a  very  feeble  tenure,  and  1 
wish  therefore  ever  to  be  found  in  the  spirit  of  sacrifice. 

"  I  rejoice  to  learn  that  your  tour  has  been  no  less  ben- 
eficial than  my  own,  particularly  in  reference  to  her   on 


LABORS  IN    AMERICA.  239 

whose  behalf  it  was  mainly  undertaken  ;  may  she  be  long 
contiuued  to  you,  to  be  blest  and  to  be  a  blessing.  I  now 
look  forward  to  my  return  among  you  with  less  painful 
forebodings.  The  gloom  which  hung  around  the  horizon  of 
Baltimore  whenever  I  turned  my  eye  in  that  dii-ection,  is 
now  considerably  dissipated,  and  I  anticipate  a  brighter 
scene,  if  God  permit. 

"  On  Thursday  next,  the  15th  inst.,  I  leave  this  city  fijr 
Philadelphia ;  so  you  see  I  am  now  inclining  my  steps 
towards  your  little  Bethany,  where  I  hope  ere  long  to  min- 
gle with  '  Martha  and  her  sister  and  Lazarus.'  And  Oh, 
that  your  household  may  have  as  distinguished  a  character 
as  that  of  Martha  '  and  the  family  whom  Jesus  loved.' 
"  Believe  me,  my  dear  doctor, 

"  Ever  yours,  in  truest  affection, 

"J.  SUAIMERFIELD." 

On  Saturday,  the  18th,  he  arrived  in  Philadelphia,  and 
on  the  following  day  preached  to  an  immense  multitude. 
Ten  days  afterwards  the  missionary  board  of  the  Philadel- 
phia conference  appointed  him  to  travel  Avithin  the  states  of 
Pennsylvania  and  New  Jersey  for  one  month,  to  form  auxil- 
iary societies,  and  to  take  up  collections  in  aid  of  this  institu- 
tion. In  a  letter  to  Dr.  Baker  he  says,  "My  health  remains 
good — good  for  one  ;  I  still  labor  a  little  for  Him  whom  my 
soul  loveth,  and  for  ^\•hom  I  would  gladly  spend  and  be  spent. 
I  have  indeed  been  considerably  disappointed  by  my  long 
separation  from  you,  to  which  nothing  would  have  reconciled 
me,  but  a  belief  that  I  Avas  not  out  of  the  line  of  duty.  I 
think  I  can  positively  state  the  time,  please  God,  when  I 
shall  be  with  you  ;  but  then  it  is  a  period  so  distant  that  I 
am  afraid  '  hope  so  long  deferrec]  will  make  the  heart  sick.' 
And  yet,  what  is  a  month — a  little  month  ?  Agreeably 
with  bishop  M'Kendree's  request,  I  have  made  my  arrange- 
ments to  devote  a  month  to  travel  within  the  bounds  of  this 
conference,  for  missionary  purposes.     To-morrow  I  depart, 


240  REV.   JOHN   PUMMERFIELD. 

in  company  with  my  dear  Thomas,"  Rev.  T.  B.  Sargent. 
"  I  have  made  my  calculations,  and  determined  to  leave  here 
on  Monday  the  first  of"  November,  arriving  in  Baltimore  the 
following  morning." 

To   Dr.   Thomas  Sargent. 

"  Lancaster,  Oct.  7,  1824. 

"  My  dear  Doctor — We  promised  to  write  to  you  once 
a  week  during  our  absence,  and  as  it  is  a  week  this  day 
since  we  left  Philadelphia,  we  come  within  the  engagement. 
We  have  arrived  here  within  a  few  hours,  safe  and  sound — 
and  as  to  health,  'moving.''  Thomas  would  have  written, 
but  as  he  preaches  this  evening,  and  is  as  usual  a  good  deal 
in  the  '  diihcrs '  till  it  is  over,  I  have  undertaken  the  mat- 
ter. We  are  travelling  in  a  gig.  The  weather  has  been 
very  unfavorable,  and  although  there  has  been  considerable 
rain,  yet  wc  have  been  favored  as  the  Jews  were  in  the  re- 
building of  their  temple — iJie  rain  fell  all  in  the  night,  so 
that  our  work,  like  theirs,  has  not  been  impeded  thereby. 

"  I  can  give  you  no  particulars  as  yet  of  what  we  have 
done  :  in  Strasburg  we  suffered  much  in  our  collection  for 
the  want  of  due  notice  having  been  given,  which  the  cross- 
post  prevented  us  from  doing.  We  have  been  among  Ger- 
mans, and  you  know  what  a  difficult  task  it  is  to  coax 
money  from  them  ;  it  comes  like  drops  of  blood  from  their 
fingers'  ends. 

"  I  hope,  however,  that  we  shall  not  disappoint  the  ex- 
pectations of  the  committee,  although  I  do  think  neither  of 
us  would  covet  such  a  begging  mission  again.     With  love  to 
all  your  family,  in  which  Thomas  unites,  I  I'emain, 
"  My  dear  doctor,  yours,  as  ever, 

"J.  SUMM.EE.FIELD." 

He  accordingly  preached,  with  reference  to  making  col- 
lections and  forming  auxiliary  missionary  societies,  at  West- 
chester, Springfield,  Churchtown,  New  Holland,  Strasburg, 
Lancaster,  Columbia,  Harrisburg,  Marietta,  Eeading,  Joanna  ; 


LABORS    IN    AMERICA.  241 

and  on  the  15th  of  October  he  returned  to  Philadelphia. 
After  visiting  New  York,  where  he  remained  till  the  27th, 
he  again  set  out  on  his  mission. 

"Nov.  1,  1824.  Met  the  committee  of  the  Missionary 
Board  of  the  Philadelphia  conference,  and  delivered  my 
report.  The  whole  amount  collected  was  three  hundred  and 
fifty-eight  dollars,  and  six  auxiliary  societies  established. 
They  apportioned  me  one  hundred  and  eighty-five  dollars,  of 

which  I  gave  T fifty ;  travelling  expenses  were  thirty, 

so  that  it  left  me  one  hundred  and  five  dollars  clear.  This 
is  the  first  church  property  I  had  received  for  two  years, 
and  I  disbursed  it  all  vipon  my  dear  father  in  his  affliction. 

"  Nov.  2.  Proceeded  to  Baltimore.  4th.  Preached  in 
Light-street,  for  the  first  time  since  my  return.  I  am  now 
comfortably  settled  here ;  nothing  can  exceed  the  kindness 
of  Dr.  Baker  and  his  family.  My  God,  do  thou  remember 
them. 

"Dec.  1.  Preached  to  the  children  in  Light-street. 
9th.  Preached  again  to  the  children,  and  collected  from 
them  eighty  dollars,  to  remit  to  my  dear  brother  Finlay, 
who  writes  to  me  most  plaintively  to  raise  him  fifty  dollars. 
The  gold  and  the  silver  is  God's."  *  *  * 

The  following  entry  in  Mr.  Summerfield's  diary  will 
show  that  the  imposition  of  his  name  was  not  confined  to 
missionary  children,  on  whom  donors  from  time  to  time 
availed  themselves  of  the  privilege  of  conferring  it. 

"Dec.  16.  Went  to  open  the  '  Summerfield  chapel'  at 
Elkridge-landing,  accompanied  by  the  Rev.  William  Nevins 
and  other  friends.  The  Lord  was  graciously  with  me,  and 
sufiercd  not  his  word  to  fall  to  the  ground." 

While  at  Baltimore,  in  the  month  of  December,  he  sub- 
mitted to  a  course  of  salivation:  that  this  would  be  bene- 
ficial, was  alike  the  opinion  of  Dr.  Baker,  with  whom  he 
now  dwelt,  and  of  the  physician  with  whom  he  resided  some 
time  while  in  Liverpool.     Of  the  favorable  result  of  this 

.=;iimmprfipl(l.  1  1 


242  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

severe  experiment,  his  friends  as  well  as  himself  were  very 
sanguine.  "Writing  to  Mr.  Blackstock,  he  says,  "  It  is  ex- 
pected that  in  the  spring  I  shall  fatten  up  after  it,  and  visit 
you  with  a  renewed  constitution.  My  mouth  is  very  sore 
with  the  mercury,  which  I  rub  on  my  right  side  every  night ; 
and  yet  I  am  well  able  to  preach,  although  I  moderate  my- 
self to  once  a  week,  namely,  on  Sunday  morning,  and  occa- 
sionally exercise  at  public  aniuversaries  on  the  week-days, 
Bible  societies,  bethel  unions,  Sunday  and  free  schools,  mis- 
sionary societies,  etc  ,  all  appearing  to  fall  due  just  at  this 
time.  You  need  not,  however,  be  uneasy ;  I  am  in  kind 
hands  under  Dr.  Baker,  and  he  will  not  sufier  me,  even  loere 
I  inclined — which  I  assure  you  I  am  not — to  do  any  more 
than  is  quite  consistent  with  my  circumstances.  I  stay  in 
always  in  the  evenings,  and  have  determined  not  to  go  to 
any  tea-parties,  except  to  iceddings,  for  I  have  begun  to 
marry  others,  though  I  have  no  prospect  of  such  a  change 
for  myself;  so  that  I  am  sure  you  will  commend  my  pru- 
dence." 

Weak  as  he  M'as,  he  still  continued  to  preach  :  after 
service  in  Light-street  on  Sunday  morning,  although  he 
found  his  Master's  promise,  "  Lo,  I  am  Avith  you  always," 
graciously  fulfilled,  yet  he  remarks,  "  My  physical  powers 
are  very  weak,  and  I  have  seldom  been  more  exhausted  than 
at  the  close  of  this  exercise  ;  I  had  to  retire  to  bed.  0  how 
should  I  value  a  sound  constitution,  were  it  the  will  of  God. 
But  it  appears  to  me  I  am  appointed  to  halt  upon  my  thigh 
all  the  days  of  my  life.  Well,  these  light  afflictions  'are  not 
worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  glory  which  is  to  be  reveal- 
ed." '  How  meekly  resigned  to  the  will  of  God.  Content  to 
"  halt  upon  his  thigh,"  after  long  wrestling  with  the  angel, 
and  having  obtained  from  Him  the  blessing  which  in  Ireland 
he  so  often  and  bitterly  agonized  to  find.  The  day  follow- 
ing, he  writes,  "  My  allliction  is  so  increased,  that  a  consul- 
tation of  physicians  was  held  tn-day.     I  am  interdicted  a!) 


LABORS   IN   AMERICA.  243 

public  labors.  I  am  the  subject  of  constant  fever.  '  Lord, 
thy  will  be  done.'  " 

On  Christmas-day,  notwithstanding  his  general  debility, 
and  that  his  mouth,  from  the  recent  effects  of  the  mercury, 
was  almost  too  sore  to  allow  him  to  speak,  the  absence  ot 
Mr.  JNevins  left  it  almost  imperative  upon  him  to  take  an 
appointment.  "  I  have  resolved,  therefore,"  says  he,  "  to 
hold  out  to  the  end  of  the  year,  and  then  rest :  if  not,  I  shall 
soon  be  carried  to  my  rest  in  the  grave.  I  preached  this 
morning,  December  25,  to  t^ie  colored  ]jeoplc  in  Sharpe- 
street,  and  the  word  came  with  great  power — we  indeed 
realized  the  hymn  we  had  been  singing : 

"  '  0  wouldst  thou  again  be  made  known, 
Again  in  thy  Spirit  descend  ; 
And  set  up  in  each  of  thine  own, 
A  kingdom  that  never  shall  end  ; 
Thou  only  art  able  to  bless, 
And  make  the  glad  nations  obey ; 
And  bid  the  dire  enmity  cease, 
And  bow  the  whole  world  to  thy  sway.' 

The  poor  Africans  appeared  to  be  let  into  heavenly  places  ; 
every  heart  was  full. 

"Sunday,  26th.  Heard  Mr.  Bascum  in  the  moi-ning, 
and  preached  myself  in  the  afternoon  at  Mr.  Nevins',  from 
1  Cor.  16  :  22.     My  strength  now  seemed  entirely  gone. 

"  Monday,  27th.  With  a  view  of  fulfilling  my  final  en- 
gagement for  this  year,  unwell  as  I  was,  I  submitted  to  be 
carried  to  Dr.  Henshaw's  church,  to  address  the  anniversary 
meeting  of  the  Young  Men's  Bible  Society.  During  the 
meeting  I  sat  in  great  pain,  and  as  soon  as  I  had  done,  was 
obhged  to  be  carried  home.  For  the  remainder  of  the  week 
I  was  confined  to  the  house,  and  lost  the  enjoyment  of  all 
the  sanctuary  services  with  which  the  old  year  usually  closes 
among  us." 


244  E.EV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

CHAPTER   XVII. 

EXTRACTS  FROM  DIARY  — LETTERS  — EXTEMPORE  PREACHING- 
LETTERS— RETURN  TO  NEW  YORK— ADDRESS  AT  THE  FORMA- 
TION OF  THE  AMERICAN  TRACT  SOCIETY  — LAST  ILLNESS  — 
DEATH-BED  EXPRESSIONS— DIES  IN  THE  LORD  — PUBLIC  SYM- 
PATHY—FUNERAL— MONUMENTAL  INSCRIPTIONS. 

"  Towards  the  close  ol"  any  book  of  biography  in  which 
we  have  been  pecnharly  interested,  there  is  something  of 
apprehension  experienced  as  we  approach  the  last  pages  : 
we  know  the  catastrophe  which  consummates  every  work  of 
the  kind,  because  the  same  is  the  consummation  of  every 
human  life.  Whose  heart  has  not  palpitated,  whose  hand 
has  not  trembled  as  if  it  felt  a  feebler  pulse  at  turning  over 
leaf  after  leaf,  and  whose  eye  has  not  keenly,  eagerly,  yet 
afraid  and  revoltingly,  glanced  on  to  the  very  line  in  which 
the  last  agony  is  described,  as  though  it  saw  the  dying  look 
of  one  who  had  been  '  very  pleasant  in  life,'  and  from  whom, 
even  '  in  the  volume  of  the  book,'  it  was  hard  to  be  divided? 
Yea,  and  we  read  with  prophetic  anticipation  the  record  of 
the  last  moments  of  our  endeared  companion,  as  one  warn- 
ing more  of  our  own  being  so  much  the  nearer  than  when 
we  first  became  acquainted,  though  it  -were  but  a  few 
days  ago."*  The  foregoing  passage,  so  characteristic  of 
the  source  whence  it  emanated,  is  not  more  striking  than 
true ;  and  no  reader  having  the  common  sensibilities  of  our 
nature — especially  if  those  sensibilities  are  refined  and  exalt- 
ed by  religion,  pure  and  undefiled — can  have  proceeded  to 
this  point  in  the  aflecting  narrative  of  Mr.  Summerfield's 
earthly  course,  without  feeling  something  of  the  touching 
presentiment  above  referred  to. 

We  perceive  with  certainty  how  soon  some  fondly  in- 
dulged hopes   will  be   disappointed,   and  how  shortly  and 

*  Montgomery'.s  Introduction  to  Mpmoirs  of  Mrs.  Susan  Hunting- 
ton, of  Boston. 


CLOSING  SCENES.  245 

surely  some  forebodings  will  be  realized.  This  species  of 
knowledge  seems  almost  to  annihilate  the  scope  and  indul- 
gence of  anticipations  that  owe  their  existence  to  that  un- 
certainty with  which  the  good  providence  of  God  has  so 
mercifully  overhung  the  contingencies  and  duration  of  every 
human  life.  As  the  final  period  advances,  the  incidents  of 
many  past  years  appear  to  crowd  their  recollections  into  the 
brief  remnant  of  weeks  or  days  that  are  behind ;  and  in  the 
records  of  the  life  of  a  good  man,  the  memorials  become  in- 
creasingly precious  to  the  heart,  as  they  diminish  in  bulk  to 
the  eye — not  so  much  from  any  difference  in  their  nature, 
as  from  their  peculiarity  of  situation.  They  are  the  key- 
stones of  that  arch  of  existence  whose  span  extends  from 
time  into  eternity,  either  segment  of  which — the  dimly  re- 
ceding past,  or  the  invisible  future — appear  alike  to  owe 
their  connection,  if  not  their  stability,  to  that  which  forms 
the  point  of  contact. 

Under  the  date  of  February  11,  1825,  Mr.  Summerfield, 
weak  as  he  was,  and  yet  residing  at  Baltimore,  recommenced 
his  diary.  "I  am,"  says  he  in  the  introductory  paragraph, 
"  truly  a  mystery  to  myself  The  old  year  has  rolled  away, 
and  the  new  year  is  fast  following  it,  and  no  record  of  the 
dealings  of  God  with  my  soul.     0  tell  me  why — 

"'Why,  my  cold  heiirt,  art  thou  not  lost 
In  wonder,  love,  and  praise?' 

The  temptation  of  postponing  all  attention  to  my  diary  to  a 
more  convenient  season,  still  haunts  me,  and  by  yielding 
thereto  I  am  continually  brought  into  darkness.  My  afflic- 
tion of  body  is  urged  as  a  reason  ;  and  indeed,  since  the  year 
commenced  I  have  been  greatly  afflicted  :  but  then  I  may 
never  be  otherwise,  and  thus  w^hile  vowing  for  to-moiToic, 
to-night  I  die.  Painful,  then,  as  it  is  to  flesh  and  blood,  I 
am  resolved  again — ^yes,  again,  often  as  I  have  done  it  be- 
fore— that,  God  being  my  helper, 

'"I'll  praise  him  while  he  leads  me  breath,' 


246  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

and  hencetorward  record  from  time  to  time  more  faithfully 
what  he  hath  done  for  my  soul. 

"  My  mind  has  been  for  some  time  in  great  darkness.  1 
seem  to  have  gone  clean  out  of  the  way.  I  have  no  light. 
The  new  year  opened  propitiously  to  many,  but,  Ah  me,  that 
day  was  as  the  former."  Here  is  distress  and  fear  again. 
The  dark  lantern  of  the  body  often  obscures  the  light  of  the 
soul  clear  shining  within,  so  that  it  is  hidden  even  from  him 
who  possesses  it ;  yet  it  will,  it  will  break  out  at  lucid  inter- 
vals, and  cast  its  bright  beams,  not  on  himself  alone  and 
his  path,  but  upon  all  things  and  persons  around  him. 

And  accordingly,  ui  the  very  next  entry,  when  speaking 
of  preaching  in  Light-street^  church,  IVom  1  John,  1:9,  he 
says,  "Never  do  I  "remember  to  have  been  more  greatly 
blessed  myself,  or  made  a  more  general  blessing  to  others : 
for  a  short  season,  even  all  that  day,  I  was  in  the  suburbs  of 
the  heavenly  city.  0  that  I  could  have  remained  there 
without  ever  descending." 

"January  31.  This  is  my  birthday.  Time  strikes  a 
solemn  knell  this  day  to  me ;  it  may  mean,  '  Tlds  year  thou 
shait  die.'  I  am  truly  siu-priscd  that  I  am  so  little  alive  to 
this  interesting  season.  My  birthday  was  always  an  un- 
common event  in  my  estimation,  and  my  feelings  were  pe- 
culiar ;  but  0  how  my  spirit  groans  beneath  a  cumbering 
load  of  weakness  and  affliction,  and  how  little  are  my  spir- 
itual enjoyments.     0  Lord,  revive  thy  work. 

"Sunday,  February  G.  I  preached  in  Eutaw-street 
church,  on  '  What  shall  I  render  to  the  Lord  for  all  his  ben- 
efits?" Afterwards  the  communion  was  administered  to  a 
multitude  beyond  any  number  I  ever  saw  in  that  solemn 
ordinance.  The  serving  of  the  tables  occupied  an  hour 
and  a  half;  but  0,  the  Master  was  there,  and  the  spirit 
was  willing  and  enabled  to  endure  the  fatigue. 

"Feiuiuary  11.  This  day  I  have  been  greatly  blessed 
in  reading  Wesley's  sermons  on  the  Wilderness  Slate,  and 


CLOSING  SCENES.  247 

Heaviness  through  Manifold  Teiivptations.  My  clouds 
are  beginning  to  break  away :  I  have  determined  to  live 
nearer  to  God  than  ever,  that  like  him  I  may  know  no 
darkness  at  all.  Lord,  lift  thou  upon  me  the  light  of  thy 
countenance. 

"  Sunday,  February  13.  Preached  this  morning  in  Car- 
oline-street church,  on  Isaiah  1:10.  I  believe  it  was  made 
a  general  blessing.  This  evening  I  had  a  most  prolitabL' 
fireside  conversation  with  the  kind  family  with  whom  I 
reside.  Their  love  to  me  is  wonderful.  Lord,  remember 
them  for  good. 

"Yesterday  afternoon  I  heard  a  profitable  discourse  from 
brother  Wells,  on  '  Consider  one  another  to  provoke  to  love.' 
His  remarks  on  the  words  'consider  one  another,'  I  hope 
never  to  forget.  Consider  the  age,  the  constitutional  tem- 
per, the  educational  impressions,  etc.  0,  if  we  considered 
one  another  more,  how  it  would  lead  us  tenderly  to  caution, 
advise,  reprove  one  another  in  love  ;  and  how  little  of  evil- 
speaking  would  there  be,  were  these  solemn  words  always 
impressed  on  us,  '  With  what  measure  ye  mete,  it  shall  be 
measured  unto  you  again.'  God  will  fulfil  this  to  us.  'Tis 
awful." 

This  was  the  final  entry  ;  the  last  string  of  the  breaking 
heart  seems  here  to  have  sounded ;  and  it  is  remarkable 
that  this  is  a  caution  against  "'evil-speaking,"  of  which  he 
had  tasted  often  the  wormwood  and  the  gall  even  among 
religious  people. 

The  two  following  letters  to  a  student  who  had  the  min- 
istry in  view,  are  of  deep  interest. 

To  Mr.,  now  Rev.   Dr.  James  W.  Alexander,  of  Princeton,   N.  J. 

"B.u.TnioRE,  December  8,  183-1. 

"My  very  dear  Friend  and  Brother  must  not  sup- 
pose for  one  moment  that  because  he  has  not  received  a 
line  from  me  since  our  interview  in  the  summer,  he  had  no 
longer  any  place  in  my  remembrance.     C),  no  ;   '  God  is  my 


248  REV.  JOHN   SL'MMERFIELD. 

witness,  whom  I  seiv%  with  my  spirit  in  the  gospel  of  his 
Son,  that  without  ceasing  I  make  mention  of  you  always  in 
my  prayers.' 

"Your  first  letter  was  received,  though  out  of  date. 
I'erhaps  you  have  heard  that  about  that  time  I  made  a  tour 
llu-ough  several  of  the  New  England  states  and  the  lower 
]trovince  of  Canada,  everywhere  preaching  the  word.  Im- 
mediately on  my  return  to  New  York,  I  was  appointed  to 
1  ravel  through  the  state  of  Pennsylvania,  and  partially 
ihrough  Jersey,  which  filled  up  every  niche  of  my  time  till 
early  in  November,  when  I  arrived  here,  where  I  am  now 
IblfiUing  the  duties  of  my  regular  station ;  and  scarcely  had 
I  become  settled,  before  your  second  favor  was  forwarded  to 
me  from  Philadelphia,  where  it  had  been  directed.  I  greatly 
rejoiced  in  the  consolation  which  its  contents  atlorded  me, 
and  I  do  most  earnestly  covet  another  and  another,  'that  1 
may  be  comforted  together  with  you  by  the  mutual  faith 
both  of  you  and  me/ 

"  While  I  sincerely  mourn  with  you,  that  out  of  so  large 
a  number  of  the  rising  generation  which  your  college  brings 
together,  so  few,  comparatively,  are  wise  to  understand  the 
things  which  belong  to  their  everlasting  peace,  yet  I  thank 
God  and  take  courage  that  there  is  still  'a  remnant  accord- 
ing to  the  election  of  grace ;'  and  while  I  consider  your  own 
circumstances  in  your  present  situation,  like  those  of  the 
'greatly  beloved'  JJaniel  in  the  land  of  his  captivity,  and 
in  the  house  of  bondage,  yet,  like  him  also,  I  anticipate  con- 
cerning my  greatly  beloved  friend,  that  he  shall  'stand  in 
liis  lot  at  the  end  of  the  days.' 

"  I  am  not  able  to  ascertain  from  the  tenor  of  your  letter, 
whether  or  not  Satan  is  tempting  you  'in  the  wilderness' 
with  respect  to  your  call  to  the  ministry,  or  whether  he  has 
'  departed  lor  a  season.'  You  express,  however,  in  both 
your  letters,  the  comfort  you  have  received  from  the  indi- 
vidual application  which  you  have  been  enabled  to  make  of 


CLOSING  SCENES.  249 

Isaiah  G  :  G,  8.  It  is  indeed  a  passage  very  full  of  comfort; 
and  althouirh  you  confess  that  the  latter  part  of  the  chapter 
is  dark  and  appalling,  yet  it  need  present  no  such  horror  to 
you.  While  the  qualifications  for  the  ministry — circum- 
stances apart — must  be  essentially  the  same  with  those  of 
the  prophet,  yet  the  tenor  of  the  commission  which  is  intrust- 
ed unto  tis  runs  in  a  sweeter  strain  :  '  God  hath  committed 
unto  tis  the  ministry  of  reconciliation,  to  wit,  that  God  was 
in  Christ  reconciling  the  world  unto  himself,  not  imputing 
their  trespasses  unto  them :  now  then  we  are  ambassadors 
of  Christ,  as  though  God  did  beseech  by  us  ;  we  pray  men  in 
Christ's  stead,  that  they  be  reconciled  unto  God.'  0  what 
strains  are  these  : 

""Tis  mercy  all,  let  earth  adore, 
Let  angel  minds  inquire  no  more.' 

Our  great  theme  is  '  Jesus  Christ  crucified  ;'  our  great  busi 
ness  is  to  set  him  forth  to  men,  'evidently  crucified  before 
their  eyes ;'  our  great  glorying  i.s,  '  the  cross  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  by  whom  the  world  is  crucified  unto  us,  and 
we  unto  the  world.'  Oh,  it  is  his  name  which  gilds  the 
page  of  our  commission  ;  it  is  his  name  which  throws  such 
a  halo  of  glory  around  every  part,  as  to  absorb  all  within  its 
beams ;  it  is  his  name  which  contains  the  charm  to  drive 
away  the  evil  spirit  out  of  man  : 

"  '  For  devils  fear  and  fly.' 
"  '  Happy  if  with  your  latest  breath, 

You  may  but  gasp  his  name. 
Preach  him  to  all,  and  cry  in  death, 

Behold,  behold  the  Lamb!' 

"  I  doubt  not,  my  dear  friend,  that  rather  than  reliiso 
the  offered  privilege,  you  would  sacrifice  your  all.  I  doubt 
not  but  you  have  laid  at  his  feet  your  health,  your  property, 
your  reputation,  your  life  itself;  and  that  you  have  deter- 
mined to  be  the  servant,  or  rather,  as  you  know  the  term  is, 
the  slave  of  Jesus  Christ ;  and  that  nothing  now  is  wanting 

11* 


250  REV.  JOHN    SUMMERFIKLD. 

to  your  being  unreservedly  friven  up  to  the  service  of  your 
condescending  Master,  but  the  solemn  imposition  of  hands, 
to  which  you  look  forward  with  so  much  solicitude.  Con- 
tinue to  live  in  the  spirit  of  sacrifice ;  those  things  which 
are  gain  to  you,  count  loss  for  Christ. 

"May  the  Spirit  of  the  Father  and  the  Son  lead  you  into 
all  truth  ;  may  ho  be  your  sanctifier,  as  well  as  comforter ; 
may  his  unction  ever  abide  upon  you  ;  and  when  that  sol- 
emn hour  shall  arrive,  when  the  hands  of  the  presbytery 
shall  mark  you  out  as  the  devoted  victim  of  the  daily  cross, 
may  his  baptismal  fire  descend  and  take  up  his  abode  within 
you,  purifying  yoiu-  heart  to  be  the  sanctuary  of  God,  and  a 
holy  of  holies  for  his  abiding  habitation. 

"My  dear  yoke-fellow,  yours  in  Christ  Jesus, 

"J.  SUMMERFIELD." 

The  remarks  in  the  following  letter  upon  extempore 
preaching  "  are  very  highly  deserving  of  notice,  as  coming 
from  such  a  source.  All  who  ever  heard  this  eminent  pulpit 
orator  will  readily  acknowledge  that  he  ajiproached  to  per- 
iection,  iu  fluency,  aptiie.^s,  arrangement,  and  choice  of  dic- 
tion :  that  is,  in  what  constitutes  the  highest  praise  of  an 
extemporary  speaker." 

To  the   same. 

"  Balti.more,  January  4,  1825. 

"  My  very  dear  Friend — I  very  sensibly  feel  alive  to 
the  confidence  your  letter  reposes  in  me,  and  I  feel  thank- 
ful also  that  you  let  me  so  fully  into  your  inside  heart.  I 
see  its  workings,  and  how  tremblingly  sensitive  it  is  on  the 
great  subject  to  which  all  the  energies  of  your  mind  are 
bending.  Will  it  be  any  relief  to  my  dear  friend  to  assure 
him  that  these  anxieties  are  the  counterpart  of  my  own, 
even  unto  this  pi'esent  hour  ?  Yes,  for  I  will  not  scruple  to 
disclose  it,  that  although  I  am  now  in  my  seventh  year  of 
ministerial  labor,  the  agony  with  which  I  entered  upon  it 


CLOSING  SCENES.  251 

is  unabated.  I  still  feel  it  a  crucifixion,  a  martyrdom,  a 
dying  daily. 

"  Human  sciences  may  become  familiar  by  incessant  ap- 
plication, and  practice  may  make  perfect ;  but  the  science 
of  salvation  passeth  knoicledge  : 

"  "I  cannot  reach  the  mystery, 

The  length,  the  breadth,  the  height.' 

Angels  themselves  arc  represented  as  desiring  to  look  into 
these  things ;  and  yet,  -with  all  the  might  of  all  their  bend- 
ing minds  united,  they  fail  to  comprehend  them,  and  join  us 
in  the  apostle's  cry,  '  0  the  depth,  the  depth.'  And  it  ever 
must  be  so ;  so  long  as  Ave  retain  the  spirit  of  our  commis- 
sion, our  dependence  upon  the  Holy  Spirit  will  continue  to 
be  as  sensibly  felt  in  our  last  sermon  as  in  our  first,  unless 
we  have  learned  to  preach  without  him  ;  and  then  we  shall 
be  sounding  brass  and  tinkling  cymbals — noisy  instruments 
of  no  value.  But  let  not  my  dear  friend  be  therefore  weary 
and  faint  in  his  mind  ;  be  not  unwilling  to  harbor  the  inces- 
sant cry  within  your  breast,  '  Who  is  sufficient  for  these 
things  V  and  let  the  faith  which  moves  the  mountain  trium- 
phantly rejoin, '  My  sufficiency  is  of  God ;  I  can  do  all  things 
through  Christ  strengthening  me.'  Ever  lean  upon  the 
promise  of  the  gi'eat  Head  of  the  church,  'Lo,  I  am  with 
you  always.'  And  you  also  shall  find,  even  if  your  record 
be  that  of  the  brightest  luminary  of  the  Christian  church, 
'  No  man  stood  by  me,  but  all  men  forsook  me  ;'  'neverthe- 
less, the  Lord  stood  with  me.'  '  Be  not  thou  therefore  moved 
at  the  afflictions  of  Christ,  but  endure  hardness  as  a  good 
soldier.'     Remember  the  recompense  of  the  reward 

"  In  reply  to  your  remarks  on  extemporary  discourses,  1 
am  glad  to  find  your  own  soul  in  such  perfect  harmony  with 
mine.  You  very  much  magnify  the  difficulty  of  it,  but  you 
have  not  yet  been  called  to  grapple  with  it ;  and  I  am  fully 
persuaded,  that  even  in  your  infancy  as  a  minister  of  Christ 
Jesus,  you  will  strangle  the  serpent.     Such  is  my  decided 


252  REV.  JOHN    SUMMERFIELD. 

impression,  i'rom  the  views  you  have  aheady  taken  of  the 
subject.  And  yet  you  cry,  '  Hie  labor,  hoc  opus  est.'  I  do 
not  know  that  any  thing  I  could  suggest  would  be  applica- 
ble to  your  circumstances,  because  the  mode  of  training  for 
the  ministry  in  our  church  difiers  so  totally  from  yours. 

"  On  admission  into  our  church,  each  member  is  put  into 
a  class,  so  called,  composed  of  a  dozen  persons,  more  or  less. 
This  class  is  under  the  care  of  a  judicious  man,  well  expe- 
rienced in  the  things  of  God  ;  we  call  him  the  class-leader. 
It  is  his  business  to  meet  his  class  collectively  once  every 
week,  and  speak  to  each  member  in  relation  to  his  Christian 
experience.  This  method  gives  a  young  man  at  the  outset 
a  facility  in  describing  his  own  views  and  feelings  without 
embarrassment,  and  he  is  improved  by  hearing  his  class- 
mates speak  their  experience  in  like  manner.  Thence  he  is 
appointed  to  be  a  leader  himself,  and  this  affords  a  facility 
of  addressing  a  word  of  advice  to  others.  Thence  he  is 
advanced  to  be  a  leader  in  a  prayer-meeting,  then  an  ex- 
horter ;  and  finally,  upon  full  trial,  he  enters  the  minis- 
try with  much  less  embarrassment  than  the  man  who  is 
launched  out  from  scenes  in  which  every  thing  is  prepared 
with  labor,  and  made  the  subject  of  severe  criticism. 

"  In  your  case  I  should  reconmiend  the  choice  of  a  com- 
panion or  two,  with  whom  you  could  accustom  yourself  to 
open  and  amplify  your  thoughts  on  a  portion  of  the  word  of 
God,  in  the  way  of  lecture;  choose  a  copious  subject,  and 
be  not  anxious  to  say  all  that  might  be  said  ;  let  your  efforts 
be  aimed  at  giving  a  strong  outline,  the  filling  up  will  be 
much  more  easily  attained.  Prepare  a  skeleton  of  your 
leading  ideas,  branching  them  off  into  their  secondary  rela- 
tions ;  this  you  may  have  before  you.  Digest  well  the  sub- 
ject, but  be  not  careful  to  choose  your  icwds  previous  to  your 
delivery.  Follow  out  the  idea  in  such  language  as  may  offer 
at  the  moment.  Don't  be  discouraged  if  you  iiill  down  a 
hundred  times,  for  though  you  fall,  you  shall  rise  again ; 


/ 


CLOSING-   SCENES.  253 

and  cheer  yourself  with  the  prophet's  challenge,  'Who  hath 
despised  the  day  of  small  things  ?' 

"To  be  a  correct  extemporaneous  preacher,  you  will 
need  to  write  a  good  deal,  in  order  to  correct  style  and  prune 
oft^the  exuberance  of  language ;  but  I  would  not  advise  yon 
to  write  on  the  subject  upon  which  you  intend  to  preach. 
If  you  fill  up  on  paper  the  matter  of  your  text,  you  will  con- 
tract a  slavish  habit  of  cumbering  your  mind  with  the  words 
of  your  previous  composition.  Write  on  other  subjects,  and 
leave  your  words  free  and  spontaneous  for  pulpit  exercises. 

"  If  I  were  near  you,  I  would  show  you  my  plan  of 
skeletonizing.  As  I  hope  to  have  that  pleasure  in  the  spring, 
I  will  then  let  you  into  my  plans,  if  you  think  them  of  any 
value.  I  never  preach  without  having  prepared  an  outline, 
but  I  never  write  a  sermon  out  at  length. 

"  May  the  Lord  direct  you  in  all  things.  Write  me 
again  and  again. 

"Yours,  in  love, 

"J.  SUMMERFIELD." 
.  To  Mrs.   Bethune,  of  New  York. 

Written  a  few  months  after  the  death  of  her  husband. 

"  Baltimore,  January  14,  1825. 

•■'My  dear  Mrs  Bethune  must  not  suppose  for  one  mo- 
ment that  my  silence  for  so  long  a  time  has  arisen  from  any 
abatement  in  my  affections,  or  forgetfulness  of  her  claims 
upon  me.  I  thank  God  that  I  have  often  had  good  remem- 
brance of  you  in  my  prayers  night  and  day,  and  often  have 
commended  you  to  Him  who  is  the  judge  of  the  widow. 
But  truly  I  have  been  a  child  of  much  affliction,  and  though 
my  spirit  has  been  willing,  the  feeble  state  of  my  health  has 
retarded  me.  Not  that  the  bare  writing  of  a  letter  is  in 
itself  a  task  of  so  great  magnitude  under  any  circumstances, 
but  the  mind  sympathizes  so  acutely  with  the  '  Aveaker  ves- 
sel,' as  to  render  it  at  times  almost  impossible  to  surmount 
its  sensibilities.     Some  time  ago  I  wrote  to  Mr.  H ,  and 


254  REV.   JOHN    SUMMEIIFIELD. 

therein  1  made  mention  of  you,  with  a  desire  to  know  Ihow 

you  are,  and  where  you  are.     Mr.  H did  kindly  favor 

me  with  a  few  lines  in  reply,  merely  to  acknowledge  the  re- 
ceipt of  my  letter,  with  a  promise  to  write  at  full  length  in 
a  few  days.  Tho&afeiv  days  are  multiplied  into  many,  and 
I  have  become  the  more  anxious  on  his  account  also  to  know 
what  is  transpiring  among  you;  for  'God  is  my  record,  how 
greatly  I  long  after  you  all  in  the  bowels  of  Jesus  Christ.' 
A  lew  days  since,  I  dined  in  company  with  the  Rev.  Mr. 

M ,  a  son  of  the  doctor,  and  from  him  I  was  pleased  to 

hear  a  favorable  account  of  your  beloved  son  George,  and 
that  he  manifests  much  seriousness  and  devotedness  to  the 
sacred  character  to  which  he  is  preparing  himself  for  future 
life.  0,  is  this  the  case  ?  I  wish  he  would  write  to  me.  I 
keep  up  a  sweet  correspondence  with  Princeton  college ;  but 
strange  to  say,  I  have  no  correspondent  in  the  Theological 
seminary,  although  I  sometimes  think  that  there  are  several 
youths  there  upon  whom  I  have  some  claim  to  be  remem- 
bered. 

"  I  trust  that  the  mellowing  hand  of  time  has  in  some 
degree  dried  up  the  tears  of  your  lonely  widowhood.  Whither 
he  is  gone  '  you  know,  and  the  way  you  know.'  He  shall 
not  return  to  you,  but  you  shall  go  to  him.  Remember,  the 
gulf  is  not  between  heaven  and  earth,  but  heaven  and  hell  ; 
and  now  that  he  is  absent  from  the  body,  he  is  present  with 
the  Lord — that  Lord  whom  he  loved  when  he  saw  him  not, 
and  whom  he  now  sees  face  to  face  : 

'"VVlicrc  all  the  ship's  company  meet, 
Who  sailed  with  their  Captain  beneath.' 

And  Oh,  my  God,  shall  /  be  there  ?  And  shall  you  be 
there  ?  Yea,  saith  the  Spirit.  Yea,  saith  the  Saviour  ;  for 
'  where  I  am,  there  shall  my  servants  be.'  Yea,  saith  the 
Father,  '  It  is  your  Father's  good  pleasure  to  give  you  the 
kingdom.'  Let  us  comfort  one  another  with  these  words, 
and  then  '  to  die  is  gain.' 


,  CLOSING-  SCENES.  255 

"Farewell,  my  dear  madam.  Give  my  love  to  our 
mutual  friends  ;  and  believe  me,  sincerely  and  afiectionately, 

yours  in  Christian  love, 

"JOHN  SUMMERFIELD.^' 

To  Rev.  Mr.  T . 

'•  Baltimore;,  January  14,  1825. 

"  My  dear  Friend — What  an  age  is  it  since  we  last 
saw  each  other ;  and  which  of  us  had  the  most  distant  idea, 
when  we  separated  in  Ireland,  of  our  being  so  near  together 
as  the  space  between  Pittsburg  and  Baltimore. 

"  And  now  I  think  it  is  time  I  should  say  something 
about  yourself.  I  have  learned  with  regret,  that  success  has 
not  attended  your  removal  to  this  country  according  to  your 
expectation.  You  know  how  opposed  I  was  to  it.  How- 
ever, this  is  poor  comfort ;  nevertheless,  I  rejoice  to  know  that 
you  have  not  fallen  into  the  snare  of  too  many  of  our  poor 
Irish  brethren,  whom  I  have  met  with  in  Canada  and  else- 
where, who  have  in  the  same  proportion  as  they  lost  ground 
on  earth  given  up  their  hope  of  heaven,  and  departed  from 
the  living  God.  I  trust  that  your  mountain  still  stands 
strong,  and  that  you  yet  knoiv  that  you  have  in  heaven  a 
better  and  an  enduring  substance.  As  for  myself,  with 
much  weakness  of  the  body  with  which  I  have  had  to 
contend,  I  am  yet  honored  with  a  name  among  the  living 
in  Jerusalem.  In  this  country  my  labors  have  been  indeed 
more  ahundant,  and  I  have  not  been  permitted  to  labor 
alone;  having  obtained  help  of  God,  I  continue  unto  this 
day.  My  soul  is  in  my  work,  and  the  zeal  of  the  Lord's 
house  is  as  a  fire  within  my  bones.  The  Lord  has  honored 
me- with  many  honors,  and  at  the  same  time  has  taught  me 
the  art  of  hanging  them  all  as  trophies  on  the  cross  of  Christ. 
My  health  is  improving,  and  I  pray  that  my  days  may  yet 
be  lengthened  out,  that  I  may  bear  witness  of  the  great  sal- 
vation to  children  yet  unborn.  Farewell,  my  dear  friend. 
"  Yours  in  Christian  afiection, 

"J.  SUMMERFIELD." 


256  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD.  • 

To  Mr.  Francis  Hall. 

"  Baltimore,  Jan.  21,  1825. 

"  My  dear  Friend — I  received  your  welcome  favor,  and 
also  the  fonner  one,  to  which  I  should  have  replied,  but 
was  waiting  the  second  as  promised.  Shall  I  say  you  have 
done  iccU  in  that  you  have  ministered  to  my  necessities  ? 
Nay,  you  have  done  more;  the  great  apostle  of  the  Gen- 
tiles could  only  acknowledge  the  ministration  of  his  friends 
at  Philippi  '  09ice  and  again,'  but  you  have  supplied  my 
need  more  than  this ;  acknowledgment  is  all  the  return  I 
can  yet  make  :  but  Oh,  '  it  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to 
receive.'  I  assure  you  I  feel  the  humiliation  connected  with 
it,  to  which  circumstances  only  could  constrain  my  submis- 
sion ;  but  my  God  shall  supply  all  your  need  out  of  hib 
riches  in  glory  by  Christ  Jesus. 

"  Yours  affectionately, 

"JOHN  SUMMERFIELD.^' 

The  following  letter  Avas  written  to  the  widoM'  of  the 
late  lamented  George  Warner,  Esq.,  who  died  on  the  1st  ol 
January,  1825,  known  and  beloved  by  thousands  in  the  city 
and  state  of  New  York,  of  whose  legislature  he  was  for 
many  years  a  member  ;  and  who,  for  more  than  haiif  a  cen- 
tury, was  eminently  distinguished  for  his  zealous  and  un- 
ceasing exertions  in  the  cause  of  Christ. 

"  B.U.TIMOBE,  February  I-'),  1825. 

"My  dear  Mrs.  Warner  must  not  suppose  because  1 
have  not  broken  silence  until  now,  that  I  had  no  sympathy 
with  her  under  her  late  bereavement.  Job's  friends  sat  by  his 
side  upon  tlie  ground  seven  days  and  seven  nights,  and  none 
spoke  a  word  unto  him  ;  for  they  saw  that  his  grief  was 
very  great.  But  then  surely  there  is  a  fit  time  when  the 
'  mntister  of  peace '  should  break  the  seal  of  his  commission, 
and  fulfil  its  mandate,  '  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people, 
saith  your  God.'  It  would  indeed  be  impertinent  in  any 
other  than  the  '  Prince  of  life,'  who  was  about  to  give  back 


CLOSING  SCENES.  257 

to  the  disconsolate  widow  her  greatest  earthly  treasure,  to 
say,  '  Weep  not.'  Oh  no,  it  is  permitted  to  us  to  weep,  and 
even  to  sorrow  many  days :  hut  then  '  let  us  not  sorrow  as 
do  others ;  for  if  we  believe  that  Jesus  died  and  rose  again, 
even  so  also  them  that  sleep  in  Jesus  shall  God  bring  with 
him.'  'He  is  not  dead  then,  but  dcepeth  f  and  Jesus  will 
yet  awake  him  put  of  sleep.  He  has  long  knoM"n  that  his  Re- 
deemer liveth,  and  that  in  the  latter  day  he  should  stand 
agaiir  upon  the  eartli  and  see  him  eye  to  eye — Him  whom  he 
loved,  though  he  saw  him  not,  and  in  whom  he  long  rejoiced 
with  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory. 

"  Oh,  how  I  should  have  desired  to  be  with  him  when 
the  shadows  of  time  were  flitting  away  and  the  glories  of 
eternity  bursting  upon  his  open  vision.  0  how  I  should 
have  longed  to  witness  in  him  with  what  peace  a  Christian 
can  die.  I  might  have  leai'ned  a  lesson  which  is  now  lost 
to  me  for  ever.  But  yoio  witnessed  it ;  nay,  you  were  the 
witness  of  his  life,  which  was  a  daily  lesson  ;  the  last  chap- 
ter of  which  might  be  summed  up  in  one  line,  '  I  live  :  yet 
not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in  me.'  He  felt  that  for  him  to  live 
was  Christ,  but  now  he  finds  that '  to  die  is  gain.'  Happy 
soul,  th^  days  are  ended.  He  has  gained  the  prize  before 
us ;  but  then,  although  we  have  it  not  as  yet,  '  there  is  laid 
up  for  us  a  crown  of  righteousness,  which  the  Lord  will  give 
at  that  day.'  And  though  we  should  long  be  kept  out  of 
the  possession  of  it,  rust  will  not  corrupt  it ;  it  is  a  crown 
of  glory  that  fadeth  not  away  Oh,  that  you  and  yours  may 
gain  the  blissful  shore  as  safely  as  he  has  done,  without  any 
shipwreck  of  faith  and  of  a  good  conscience.  And  Oh,  my 
God,  remembei-  me.  When  your  feelings  will  permit,  I 
should  be  glad  to  hear  some  particulars  of  the  last  moments 
of  my  much-beloved  and  never-to-be-forgotten  friend.  He 
was  among  the  first  of  my  friendships  in  New  York,  both 
as  to  my  early  acquaintance  with  him,  and  the  value  I 
placed  upon  his  disinterested  kindness  to  me.     I  am  bereav- 


258  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

c(l  indeed.  One  after  another  is  summoned  away,  and  I  am 
left  to  bear  tales  of  woe.  It  sounds  like  a  knell  unto  my- 
self, '  Be  ye  also  ready;  for  at  such  an  hour  as  ye  think  not, 
the  Son  of  man  cometh.'  Farewell,  my  dear  friend,  and 
may  He  who  knows  how  to  comfort  them  that  are  in 
trouble,  pour  in  the  oil  and  the  wine  into  your  broken,  bleed- 
ing heart.  "  Yours  in  the  Lord, 

"J.  SUMMERFIELD." 
In  the  month  of  March,  1625,  Mr.  Summerfi eld  returned 
from  Baltimore  to  New- York,  in  consequence  of  the  alarm- 
ing indisposition  of  his  father  ;  on  his  arrival  at  the  latter 
city,  he  fully  expected  soon  to  be  called  upon  to  close  the 
eyes  of  his  beloved  parent,  at  whose  bedside  he  remained  day 
after  day,  little  calculating  upon  the  mournful  alternative 
wliich  in  the  order  of  Providence  was  soon  to  take  place. 

To  Dr.   Samuel   Baker. 

"  Bloomingdale,  N.  Y  ,  March  3,  1825. 

"  My  dear  Doctor — I  arrived  here  last  evening  after 
dark,  and  found  my  dear  father  much  better  than  I  had  ex- 
pected :  I  see  no  particular  change,  except  that  he  has  taken 
to  his  bed  permanently,  which  seems  the  precursor  of  his 
approaching  change.  He  told  me  that  his  feelings  indicated, 
that  he  should  be  carried  oil'  suddenly  ;  he  speaks  of  his  ap- 
proaching change  as  though  he  had  long  accustomed  his 
mind  to  be  familiar  with  the  scene,  and  taught  himself  to 
die  daily ;  we  wept  and  rejoiced  together. 

"  I  need  not  tell  you  how  anxious  I  shall  be  till  I  hear 

from  you,  especially  in  reference  to  Mrs.  D ;  she  is  ever 

before  my  mind  and  upon  my  heart :  as  for  tny&df,  I  am  unu- 
sually well,  with  an  appetite  greatly  improved  by  travelling. 

"  Commending  you  all  to  my  Father  and  your  Father,  to 
my  God  and  your  God,  and  praying  that  you  may  all  be  pre- 
served until  my  coming  again,  T  conclude  in  haste  but  with 
much  aflection. 

"  Kind  remembrance  to  all  friends,  love  to  Mrs.  D , 


CLOSING  SCENES.  '      259 

Mrs.  B ,  E ,  and  all  the  children,  from  "William  the 

first-fruits  to  little  Blossom — not  forgetting  Alfred. 
"  Yours  most  truly  and  sincerely, 

"JOHN  SUMMERFIELD.^' 

At  this  time,  while  he  was  residing  with  his  family  in 
the  country  about  four  miles  from  New- York,  a  physician 
who  called  to  pay  him  a  friendly  visit  observing  his  delicate 
state  of  health,  and  believing  the  situation  was  too  cold  for 
him,  ordered  him  to  the  city.  He  accordingly  removed  to 
the  house  of  his  kind  friend  Dr.  Beekman,  where  he  was  con- 
fined to  his  room  and  bed  about  a  month,  after  which  he  so 
far  recovered  as  ta  be  able  occasionally  to  ride  or  walk  out. 

During  this  short  interval  of  temporary  convalescence, 
he  was  employed,  with  several  of  his  brethren  in  the  min- 
istry of  different  denominations,  in  the  formation  of  The 
American  Tract  Society,  of  whose  Publishing  Committee 
he  was  a  member.  On  Tuesday,  May  10,  he  sat  for  several 
hours  in  the  convention  assembled  for  adopting  its  constitu- 
tion, and  his  last  public  act  was  an  eloquent  address  at  the 
organization  of  this  flourishing  society  on  the  succeeding 
day  ;*  of  which  a  brief  sketch  was  reported  in  the  Commer- 
cial Advertiser  as  follows  : 

*  The  day  after,  Thursday,  was  the  anniversary  of  the  American 

Bible  Society.     Mr.  Summerfield,  with  several  distinguished  strangers 

and  members  of  the  Society,  was  invited  to  dine  with  his  esteemed 

and  highly  respected  friend  the  E,ev.  Dr.  Milnor.       This   invitation 

occasioned  the  following  note,  in  which  there  is  a  peculiar  interest, 

when  we  reflect  that  it  was  the  last  he  ever  wrote !     On  the  Monday 

succeeding,  he  took  to  his  bed. — J.  B. 

To  the  Rev.   Dr.   Milaor. 

"  May  12,  1825. 

"Rev.  and  dear  Sir — In  the  anticipated  pleasure  which  yom- 
invitation  to  dinner  to-day  inspired,  'memory  lost  her  seat;'  I  forgot 
that  my  diet  is  simply  bread  and  milk,  and  that  I  had  not  tasted  ani- 
mal food  of  any  kind  for  some  months. 

"At  your  table  I  know  I  should  see  'as  it  were  a  great  sheet  let 
down  at  the  four  corners,  containing' — '  all  that  was  pleasant  for 
food;'  but  then  no  accompanying  voice  would  address  W2P,  'Arise,  Pe- 
ter, kill  and  cat.'     Unwilling  therefore  to  appear  singular,  and  fearmg 


260  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFFELD. 

"Hume  predicted  tlie  downfall  of  Christianity  in  the 
nineteenth  century  ;  nay,  he  declared  that  he  already  saw 
evidences  that  its  ruin  was  approaching.  It  was  not  the 
evening  twilight,  however,  but  as  it  were  the  dawning  light 
of  Christianity  which  he  saw ;  for  with  the  commencement 
of  the  nineteenth  century  the  British  and  Foreign  Bible 
Society,  and  the  Religious  Tract  Society  of  London  were 
brought  forth. 

"  Voltaire  too,  with  impotent  rage,  assailed  Christianity, 
and  boasted  that  although  it  took  twelve  men  to  plant  it, 
his  single  arm  should  root  it  out.  In  that  day  and  country 
it  was  customary  to  sneer  at  Christians.  And  among  the 
French  nobility  it  was  an  old  saying,  "  We'll  leave  the  poor 
to  the  clergy."  Bless  God  for  the  legacy.  The  poor  we 
have  always  with  us. 

"  Tom  Paine  boasted  that  he  had  cut  down  every  tree  in 
paradise.  There  was  one  tree  he  did  not  cut  down,  and  that 
was  the  tree  of  life.  Would  that  he  had  reached  Ibrth  his 
hand  and  taken  its  fruit. 

"  It  is  a  wonderful  dispensation  of  Providence,  that  Vol- 
taire's press — that  very  press  that  scattered  his  baneful 
tracts,  so  that,  like  the  frogs  in  Egypt,  they  were  found  in 
their  houses,  their  kneading-troughs,  and  their  ovens — is 
now  actively  employed  at  Geneva  in  printing  the  holy 
Scriptures.  In  the  very  chamber  too  where  Hume  uttered 
his  evil  prophecy,  the  first  Committee  assembled  for  form- 
ing the  Edinburgh  Bible  Society.  One  of  the  converts  of 
Carlisle,  who  sent  that  wretch  a  donation  in  prison,  as  he 
said,  to  compliment  him  for  having  delivered  him  from  his 

'  it  might  put  you  to  inconvenience.  I  beg  of  you  to  excuse  me  till  we 
can  enjoy  'all  things  in  common.' 

"  I  could  not  make  my  way  into  the  City  Hotel  this  morning,  or  I 
would  have  spoken  to  you. 

"With  kind   regard  to   Mrs.   M ,   believe   me   very   afleclion- 

ately  yours, 

"  J.  SUMMERFJELD." 
"Thursday.  3  o'clock." 


CLOSINCr   SCENES.  2G1 

ridiculous  fears  of  hell  and  his  fantastical  hopes  of  heaven, 
lately  died  in  the  most  horrible  agony,  exclaiming,  'J  am 
lost  f 

"  In  all  the  anniversaries  of  benevolent  institutions  which 
I  have  attended  on  the  continent  of  Europe,  in  Great  Brit- 
ain, the  Canadas,  and  the  United  States,  I  have  never  been 
conscious  of  such  a  spirit  of  Christian  love  inspiring  the 
hearts  of  all,  as  on  the  present  occasion.  To  this  token  of 
the  divine  approbation  many  have  manifested  their  respect 
by  their  tears.  For  myself,  again  and  again,  I  could  not 
refrain  from  weeping.  The  room  aflbrds  a  delightful  spec- 
tacle. In  the  union  of  different  sects  of  Christians,  there  is 
a  semblance  of  that  love  which  is  so  beautiful  in  the  Chris- 
tian character.  It  is  a  love  which  we  can  even  see  as  it 
were  beaming  from  the  face,  looking  out  at  the  eyes,  breath- 
ing from  the  lips,  and  distilling  from  the  hands,  thus  creating 
an  atmosphere  which  angels  come  down  to  inhale,  and  in 
which  God  himself  delights  to  dwell ;  for  he  that  dwelleth 
in  love,  dwelleth  in  God  and  God  in  him." 

A  fcAV  days  after  this  he  went  to  pay  his  father,  who 
had  in  some  degree  recovered  from  his  attack,  a  visit  prior 
to  his  return  to  Baltimore  ;  and  little  did  he  or  his  father 
think  that  this  would  be  the  last  time  they  should  see  each 
other  in  the  flesh  I  On  this  very  day  his  physician  was  con- 
sulted with  respect  to  his  intended  journey  :  he  apprehended 
from  appearances  that  amidst  a  complication  of  complaints, 
his  most  formidable  disease  was  a  dropsy  ;  this  unexpected 
diagnosis  was  fully  confirmed  when  next  day  he  took  to  his 
bed — never  again  to  rise  from  it. 

He  soon  after  received  the  following  letter  of  Christian 
counsel  and  consolation  from  his  father,  both  lying  on  the 
bed  of  death.  , 

"  Blooming  DALE,  Friday  evening,  May  20,  1825. 

"  My  dear  John — The  mysterious  providence  of  our 
being  separated  by  severe  afflir^tion,  T  sincerely  feel  ;  and 


2G2  REV.  JOHN  SIJMM  E  RFI  E  LD. 

were  1  nut  iiupported  by  the  assurance  that  all  things  shall 
work  for  our  good,  my  spirit  would  fail ;  but  here  I  rest. 

"My  dear  John,  you  are  surrounded  by  friendly  physi- 
cians, who  are  deeply  concerned  for  your  bodily  health,  and 
probably  so  much  so  as  to  prohibit  the  access  of  God's  peo- 
ple. But  remember,  my  dear,  they  cannot  stand  for  you 
before  God  ;  therefore,  any  of  his  people  you  may  wish  for, 
send  for  them.  My  prayers  and  tears  are  continually  sent 
to  the  mercy-seat  on  your  behalf 

"  I  know  not  how  this  our  affliction  will  end  ;  but  it  will 
be  our  highest  wisdom  to  lay  hold  of  God,  as  he  is  revealed 
in  his  word  according  to  our  wants,  through  our  right  in  the 
atonement  by  Jesus  Christ. 

"  Your  afUicted  and  afiectionate  father, 

'•  WILLIAM  SUMMERFIELD.-' 

During  this  last  sickness,  such  was  the  violence  of  the 
disease,  and  the  consequent  efiect  of  the  anodynes  which 
were  necessarily  administered,  that  he  had  but  few  lucid 
intervals.  Notwithstanding  this,  his  ideas  were  at  times  ex- 
ceedingly sublime,  obscured  as  they  frequently  were  by  the 
inability  to  express  fully  what  he  meant  to  convey.  The 
bent  of  his  mind  was  very  evident;  the  teading  features  of 
his  remarks  were,  the  glory  of  the  cliurcJi,  the  lyrospcritu 
of  Zion — themes  upon  which  he  had  dwelt  with  delight 
while  in  health.  "  The  glory  of  the  church — the  glory 
of  the  church  of  New  York  I"  he  exclaimed:  "her  walls 
shall  be  salvation  and  her  gates  praise !"  He  attempted 
to  illustrate  the  union  subsisting  between  Bible  and  Mis- 
sionaiy  societies  by  the  most  chaste  and  beautiful  meta- 
phors. One  morning,  while  enduring  great  bodily  pain,  he 
exclaimed, 

"Cease,  fond  nature,  cease  thy  strife, 
And  let  me  languish  into  life." 

Throughout  this  severe  illness,  his  mind  generally  appear- 
ed engaged  about  heavenly  things  :  on  a  subsequent  morning 


CLOSING  SCENES.  2G3 

he  drew  the  bed-curtains  aside,  and  said  to  a  friend  who 
stood  by,  "  Show  me  the  throne  I  where  is  the  throne?"  He 
would  often  speak  on  the  fellowship  of  saints  ;  and  sometimes 
he  appeared  engaged  at  a  sacramental  feast. 

In  a  conversation  which  took  place  about  ten  days  after  he 
was  laid  sick,  he  remarked  to  his  kind  friend  Mrs.  Doctor 
Beekman,  that  her  "  infirmity  of  body  was  not  less  than  lu's 
own;  but,"  continued  he,  "had  you  my  mental  suflerings  to 
contend  with,  in  addition  to  your  weakness  of  body,  perhaps 
you  would  hardly  bear  it."  He  expressed  a  great  desire  to 
be  raised  again,  if  it  were  the  will  of  God  :  "Affliction,"  said 
he,  "is  not  JO1J0US,  but  grievous;  for  example,  even  Christ 
himself  prayed,  '  H'  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me.'  " 
After  a  pause,  he  emphatically  said,  "  Ncvertlteless,  not  my 
will,  hut  thine  he  done'''  A  deep  sense  of  his  unworlhiness 
seemed  to  oppress  his  mind  :  "  Having  lived  so  long,"  he  said, 
"and  to  so  little  purpose:  Oh,"  he  added,  "if  I  might  be 
raised  again,  how  I  could  preach .'  I  could  preach  as  I  never 
preached  before  ;  /  have  taken  a  look  into  eternity .'"  Dur- 
ing this  conversation  the  distressing  hiccough,  from  which  he 
had  had  little  or  no  relief  for  some  days  and  nights,  was  con- 
verted into  a  most  affecting  sob.  On  its  being  remarked  to 
him  that  he  suficred  himself  to  be  too  much  cast  down  by 
this  deep  sense  of  his  own  unworthiness,  a  friend  spoke  to 
him  of  the  numbers  that  had  been  blessed  under  his  minis- 
try, some  of  whom  were  themselves  preaching  the  gospel, 
and  others  promising  fair  to  commence  the  work  in  due  time, 
besides  many  of  whom  we  shall  never  hear  :  "  Oh,"  he  re- 
plied, "say  nothing  on  that  subject;"  and  then  he  sobbed 
out,  "  ^Yell,  I  have  been  a  laborer  for  seven  years."  He 
paused  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  with  emphasis  added, 
"  Bless  God,  I  have  at  least  served  an  apprenticeship." 
After  a  little  time  taken  to  recover  himself,  he  continued, 
"  I  know  not  how  it  will  end  with  me  in  this  sickness ;  death 
is  not  so  near  to  me  as  T  could  wish  it  to  be.  were  this  to  be 


2G4  REV.  JOHN  SITMMERFIELD. 

my  last  sickness  :"  raising  his  hand,  he  said,  "  I  wish  to  have 
eternity  brought  before  me,  as  near  to  my  view  as  that," 
looking  at  his  hand  ;  "  this  not  being  the  case,  I  have  thought 
it  a  presentiment  that  God  will  again  raise  me.  'Tis  singular 
to  remark,"  continued  he,  "  that  the  last  time  I  sat  down  to 
prepare  a  sermon,  my  mind  was  led  to  these  words,  '  Hav- 
ing a  desire  to  depart  and  to  be  toith  Christ,  tvhich  is  far 
better ;'  the  sermon  just  filled  up  the  last  volume  of  my  ser- 
mons, and  after  closing  the  book,  I  was  led  to  make  use  of 
these  words,  '  My  icork  is  done.''  Yet,"  he  added,  "if  it 
were  God's  will,  I  should  like  to  preach  it." 

It  is  worthy  of  observation  here,  that  during  his  severe 
illness  of  1822,  when  in  Philadelphia,  and  when  no  hope 
was  entertained  of  his  recovery,  this  text  of  Scripture  was 
much  upon  his  mind  :  "  Having  a  desire  to  depart  and  to  be 
with  Christ,  which  is  far  better ;  nevertheless,  to  abide  in 
the  flesh  is  more  needful  for  you."  After  dwelling  upon 
this  for  some  time,  the  latter  part  of  the  text,  "neverthe- 
less, to  abide,"  etc.,  was  so  fixed  on  his  mind,  that  he  said 
to  a  friend  in  a  confident  manner,  "  This  sickness  is  not 
unto  death."  The  same  friend  being  with  him  a  night 
during  his  last  illness,  Mr.  Summerfield  said,  "  Thomas,  do 
you  remember  I  told  you  in  Philadelphia  how  much  those 
words,  '  Having  a  desire  to  depart,'  etc.,  were  impressed 
upon  my  iniiid  ?  You  recollect  with  what  confidence  I  in- 
formed you  that  I  should  recover,  from  the  latter  part  of  the 
text  fastening- upon  me  in  so  peculiar  a  manner,  'never- 
theless, to  abide  in  the  flesh  V  Now,"  continued  he,  "it  is 
reversed :  the  latter  part  I  have  nothing  to  do  with ;  the 
former  is  altogether  on  my  mind." 

On  one  occasion,  when  a  cup  was  handed  to  him  to  take  a 
drink,  he  looked  upon  his  friends  present,  many  of  whom  sur- 
rounded his  bed,  and  smiling  upon  them  severally,  he  said, 

"  On  you,  on  me,  on  all  be  given 
The  bread  of  life,  which  comes  frctm  heaven." 


CLOSING   SCENES.  2G5 

About  ten  days  before  his  death,  he  was  visited  by  his 
much  esteemed  friend  Bishop  Soule.  The  interview  was  a 
most  affecting  one.  He  had  just  obtained  reUef  from  very 
violent  sufiering.  When  the  bishop  entered  the  room  he 
fixed  his  eyes  upon  him.  The  bishop  took  him  by  the  hand. 
For  a  few  seconds  they  silently  gazed  upon  each  other,  when 
the  bishop  said,  "  I  trust,  John,  all  is  j^cace."  Being  mucli 
overcome,  and  after  giving  vent  to  his  feelings,  the  suffering 
saint  replied,  "  /  have  a  hojie  of  tvhich  I  trust  I  7ieed  not 
he  ashamed.'''  The  bishop  put  up  a  most  fervent  petition, 
to  which  Mr.  Summerfield  responded  in  a  deeply  devout 
manner.  When  the  prayer  was  concluded,  he  said,  "Bless 
the  Lord,  all  within  me  s/iouts  his  praise  ;"  he  added,  "great 
is  the  weakness  of  ray  body."  The  bishop  observed,  "Well, 
my  dear  brother,  you  have  been  doing  the  will  of  the  Lord, 
now  you  are  suffering  ;  so  that  in  doing  and  suffering  you 
are  serving  the  Lord."  To  which  he  replied,  "I  bless  God. 
The  will  of  the  Lord  be  done."  Then  taking  a  valedictory 
salutation,  he  said,  "  Bishop,  farewell ;  if  I  do  not  meet  you 
again  on  earth,  meet  me  in  heaven." 

At  another  time  he  said,  "  I  doubt  not  but  many  will 
expect  a  dying  testimony,  but  I  know  not  how  this  may  be 
with  me.  I  w^ould,  however,  give  the  answer  of  Whitefield 
to  a  female  friend.  When  she  asked  him  what  his  dying 
testimony  would  be,  Whitefield  replied,  that  he  had  preached 
Christ,  a  living  testimony." 

A  few  days  before  he  breathed  his  last  he  had  been  tak- 
ing a  little  porter  and  water,  when  he  requested  that  no 
anodyne  might  be  administered  whenever  it  should  appear 
that  the  time  of  his  dissolution  was  approaching.  "  Admin- 
ister nothing,"  said  he,  "  that  will  create  a  stupor,  not  even 
so  much  as  a  little  porter  and  water,  as  I  wish  to  be  per- 
fectly collected,  so  that  I  may  have  an  unclouded  view." 
"  Oh,"  said  he,  "I  fear  not  so  much  the  consequences  of 
death ;  but  nature's  last  struggle — flesh  shrinks  when  we 

?nnimPi-ncM.  12 


266  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

contemplate  tJiat :  when  Ihe  spirit  is  separated  from  the 
body,  it  stands,  it  stands,  alter  the  dislodgement,  trembling 
niul  quivering.  Oh,  it  is  tliat — it  is  that  co?ivnhive  struggle 
which  harasses  the  mind."  On  being  told  there  would  be 
grace  sufficient,  he  replied,  "AYell — yes — well — all  is  well.'' 

After  expressing  his  obligations  in  the  most  afTcctionate 
manner  to  all  his  friends,  many  of  whom  he  named  and 
remarked  on  something  peculiar  in  each  of  them,  he  spoke 
of  one  for  whom  he  felt  more  than  common  interest.  "  Oh," 
said  he,  "  how  much  that  dear  friend  has  been  the  subject 
of  my  prayers.  With  respect  to  the  things  of  this  life,  my 
God  will  reward  him.  I  believe  he  will  never  lack  in  the 
store  nor  in  the  basket.  I  trust  he  will  meet  me  in  glory : 
this  is  the  subject  of  my  prayers  for  him."  He  then  said 
to  his  sister  Blackstock,  "  Ellen,  my  dear,  we  have  been 
much  separated  ;  we  have  not  seen  much  of  each  other  ;  my 
time  has  been  greatly  occupied  without  my  being  able  to 
enjoy  much  of  your  society  :  but  absence  has  never  banished 
you  from  my  mind.  God  is  my  record  that  you  are  daily 
borne  in  the  arms  of  faith  to  the  footstool  of  his  mercy.  I 
plead  there  for  each  one  of  you  by  name.'" 

Within  the  last  three  days  of  his  life,  he  appeared  to  be 
no  stranger  to  approaching  dissolution.  On  the  11th  of 
June,  he  requested  that  his  sister  would  have  mourning 
prepared.  The  day  before  he  died,  he  wished  to  change  his 
position  in  bed ;  he  pointed  towards  the  bedside,  and  spoke 
of  the  grave.  He  was  at  the  same  time  exceedingly  rest- 
less, and  said,  "I  wish  for  a  change."  When  asked  what 
he  meant,  he  replied,  "I  want  a  change,  a  change  oi  form, 
a  change  of  every  thing.'''  Among  his  last  articulate  ex- 
pressions, was  an  attempt  to  quote  a  passage  of  scripture, 
which  he  left  unfinished.  It  was  delivered  with  much 
hesitancy.  "Al — though — sin — has — entered — "  Shortly 
afterwards  he  called  his  brother  to  the  bedside,  took  his 
hand,  and  requested  that  he  would  stay  by  him. 


CLOSING-  SCENES.  267 

About  five  o'clock  on  the  evening  preceding  his  death, 
he  called  out  in  a  surprisingly  audible  voice  for  his  sis- 
ters, each  by  name  :  "Anne;"  being  told  that  she  was  not 
there,  he  called,  "Amelia;"  she  vi^as  also  absent,  attend- 
ing her  afflicted  father.  He  then  called,  "Ellen,"  his  eldest 
sister,  who  was  present.  She  took  him  by  the  hand,  and 
reminded  him  of  the  necessary  absence  of  his  sisters.  He 
replied,  "Well — tell  Amelia — tell  A?i>ie — tell  the?n — all  is 

PERFECTION." 

In  the  course  of  the  evening,  his  sister,  thinking  that  he 
was  much  more  comfortable  than  he  had  been  for  a  few 
days  past — httle  did  she  think  he  was  so  near  his  end — em- 
braced the  opportunity  of  visiting  her  anxious  parent,  who 
was  confined  to  his  bed  in  the  country.  She  returned  about 
ten  o'clock  in  the  evening,  with  a  message  from  him  to  his 
darling  son.  She  said,  "John,  my  dear,  your  father  sends 
his  love  to  you  :  he  desired  me  to  say  that  you  are  the  sub- 
ject of  his  prayers  night  and  day" — to  which  he  made  no 
reply ;  his  eyes  appeared  fixed,  but  there  was  no  apprehen- 
sion of  his  immediate  death.  She  added,  "  John,  my  love, 
is  that  right  ?"  He  answered,  "  Certainly,  Oh,  certainhj.'' 
Observing  that  his  cough  was  very  troublesome,  she  said, 
"My  dear  John,  you  must  have  taken  cold  from  the  windows 
being  open."  He  said,  "Very  possible."  She  then  gave 
him  a  drink,  which  was  his  laiit,  as  she  was  about  to  retire 
to  rest  for  a  few  hours.  She  gave  him  a  kiss,  and  said, 
"Good-night;"  to  which  he  replied,  "  Good-night."  These 
were  his  last  tcorcls. 

From  this  time  until  about  four  o'clock  in  tlie  morning, 
he  appeared  in  a  comfortable  sleep,  when  a  change  was  first 
discovered  to  have  taken  place.  His  friends  were  then  col- 
lected, and  remained  around  his  bed  until,  without  a  groan, 
or  one  convulsive  struggle,  his  spirit  departed  at  twelve  min- 
utes past  eleven  in  the  forenoon  of  the  13th  of  June,  1825. 

A    friend    immediately   proceeded    to   Bloomingdale   to 


268  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

commuuicate  the  niounilul  iulelligeiicc  to  his  aflhcted  par- 
ent. Oil  the  gentleman's  entering  his  chamber,  Mr.  Sura- 
merfield  raised  his  head  from  his  pillow,  and  was  at  once 
convinced  of  the  cause  of  the  visit :  '  So,  Mr.  S ,  I  per- 
ceive you  arc  the  harbinger  of  melancholy  tidings  to  me — 
my  dear  John  is  no  more."  After  a  solemn  pause,  he  raised 
his  eyes  heavenward,  and  with  pious  resignation  exclaimed, 
"  The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away,"  deeply  ag- 
itated ;  then  added,  "  Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

Thus  lived,  and  thus  died  John  Summerfield — a  man 
whose  name  is  not  only  written  "  in  the  Lamb's  book  of 
life,"  and  his  piety  recorded  on  high,  but  one,  the  fragrant 
memorial  of  whose  virtues  deserves  to  be  cherished  by  the 
church  below,  as  exhibiting  in  a  high  degree  the  spirit 
which  characterized  his  evangelical  namesake  mentioned  in 
the  gospel,  even  "that  other  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved." 

The  last  entry  in  his  father's  journal  is  as  follows  : 

"My  dear  John  departed  this  life  on  Monday,  the  13th 
of  June,  and  was  interred  the  next  day.  From  tlie  ac- 
counts I  have  received,  I  have  every  reason  to  thank  God 
for  his  safe  arrival  in  heaven,  where  I  hope  to  meet  him 
soon,  and  all  my  dear  children  that  are  left  behind.  I  thank 
God  for  giving  me  such  a  son  ;  may  his  death  speak  louder 
than  all  his  preaching.  Lord,  prepare  me  to  follow  him  to 
thy  kingdom." 

The  sensation  which  the  news  of  this  event  produced 
■wherever  the  deceased  preacher  had  been  known,  was  deep 
and  general,  and  testimonies  of  his  piety,  his  eloquence,  and 
the  attractiveness  of  his  entire  character,  immediately  ap- 
peared in  many  of  the  newspapers  ol'  the  United  States. 
To  transcribe  these  spontaneous  efilisions  of  respect — in 
many  instances  the  more  valuable  as  coming  from  indi- 
viduals not  to  be  supposed  to  have  any  favorable  predilec- 
tions towards  the  body  to  which  Mr.  Summerfield  belong- 


CLOSING-  SCENES.  269 

ed — would  be  a  jileasing  task ;  but  that  which  constitutes 
a  chief  excellency  of  the  documents  in  question,  forms  at 
the  same  time  one  main  objection  to  their  repetition  in  this 
place.  They  are  ahnost  uniformly  couched  in  language  at 
once  laudatory  to  the  memory  of  the  deceased  and  honorable 
to  the  feeling  of  the  writers,  while  the  choicer  epithets  and 
illustrations  which  they  contain  are  not  unfrequently  impli- 
cated with  obituary  notices  of  considerable  length.  Collec- 
tively, therefore,  they  would  occupy  more  space  and  present 
less  variety  than  niight  be  deemed  compatible  with  the  de- 
sign of  the  present  work. 

On  Tuesday,  the  14th  of  June,  the  funeral  took  place. 
The  procession  being  formed,  moved  from  Dr.  Beekman's 
house  in  Cortlandt-street  at  a  quarter  past  four  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon,  in  the  order  following  :  Members  of  the 
Young  Men's  Missionary  Society,  of  which  Mr.  Summer- 
field  was  president ;  ministers  of  various  denominations,  six 
of  whom  were  pall-bearers  ;  the  mourners,  and  a  long  train 
of  the  friends  of  the  deceased.  The  streets  through  which 
the  procession  passed  were  greatly  crowded  :  a  degree  of 
seriousness  marked  every  countenance ;  indeed  the  public 
sympathy  could  hardly  have  manifested  itself  more  than,  it 
did  on  this  occasion.  The  loss  of  a  great  and  good  man 
appeared  to  be  sensibly  felt  by  all  classes  of  the  community. 

Arriving  at  John-street,  .the  body  was  taken  into  the 
Methodist  church,  which  was  tilled  to  overflowing  ;  an  elo 
quent  and  impressive  discourse  was  delivered  by  the  Rev. 
T.  Birch,  and  the  service  concluded  by  a  solemn  and  aflect- 
ing  prayer  from  the  Rev.  Henry  Chase.  The  procession 
was  then  again  formed  and  proceeded  to  the  steamboat 
ferry,  where  it  crossed  to  Brooklyn.  Here  the  body  was 
again  taken  into  the  Sands-street  Methodist  church,  when 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Nathan  Bangs  read  the  fifteenth  chapter' of  the 
first  of  Corinthians,  and  concluded  by  reading  the  burial-ser- 
vice, after  which  the  body  was  silently  committed  to  the 


270  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

grave.  His  voice  while  living  had  often  been  heard  in  this 
temple,  and  there  "his  body,  precions  even  in  death,  sleeps 
near  the  spot  w^here  the  doctrines  of  the  Christian  denomina- 
tion to  which  he  was  attached  were  first  preached  in  Amer- 
ica. There  it  will  await  that  morning  of  which  he  loved 
when  living  to  speak,  and  of  which  he  sometimes  spoke  in 
entrancing  language — the  morning  of  the  resurrection. 

The  tombstone  over  the  grave  of^  Summerfield  bears  the 
following  inscription,  written  by  the  Rev.  Joshua  N.  Dan- 
forth,  of  the  Presbyterian  church  : 

Qatveh  to  tl)c  illemorj) 


THE   REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD,   A.M. 

JUT.  i7. 

A  PREACHER  OF  THE   METHODIST   CONNECTION, 
BOKN  IN  ENGLAND— BORN  AGAIN  IN  IRELAND; 

BY   THE    FIRST   A    CHILD    OF    GENIUS,   BY   THE    SECOND  A  CHILD  OF  GOD; 

CALLED  TO  PREACH   THE   GOSPEL  AT  THE  AGE   OF   NINETEEV. 

IN   IRELAND,   ENGLAND,   AND  AMERICA, 

HIMSELF 

THE    SPIRITUAL    FATHER    OF    A    NUMEROUS    AND    HAPPY    FAMILY. 

AT    THIS     TOMB 

GENIUS,    ELOQUENCE.    AND    RELIGION,    MINGLE   THEIR   TEARS. 

HOLY  IN   LIFE,   ARDENT   IN   LOVE.   AND   INCESSANT   IN   LABOR, 

HE    WAS 

TO   THE    CHURCH  A   PATTERN,    TO   SINFUL  MEN   AN   ANGEL  OF    MERCY  ; 

TO   THE   WORLD   A   BLESSING. 

IN   HIM   WERE  RARELY  COMBINED 

GENTLENESS     AND     ENERGY     OF     CHARACTER: 

BY    THE    ONE    ATTRACTING    UNIVERSAL   LOVE, 

BY    THE    OTHER    D  I  F  F  U  .S  1  N  G    HAPPINESS    AROUND    HIM. 


CLOSING    iSCEiNEb.  271 

SINGULAR   SWEETNESS  AND  SIMPLICITY  OF   MANNERS, 

INIMITABLE    ELOQUENCE    IN    TUE    PfLPlT, 

NATURAL,    GRACEFUL,    AND    FERVENT, 

RENDERED    II I  M 

TUE  CHARM  OF  THE   SOCIAL   CIRCLE,  AND  THE   IDOL  OF   THK    POPULAR    ASSEMBLY. 

UPON   THE   LIPS  THAT  MOULDER   BENEATH  THIS   BIARBLE. 

THOUSANDS    HUNG    IN    SILENT    WONDEK.: 

HIS    E  L  E  31  E  N  T    WAS    NOT    TUE    BREATH    OF    FAME,    BUT 

THE    COMMUNION  AND   FAVOR  OF   GOD. 

HE   CLOSED  A  SCENE  OF  PATIENT  SUFFERINGj  AND  SLEPT   IN   JESUS, 
IN  THE   CITY  OP  NEW  YORK,  ON  THE   13TH  DAY   OF  JUNE,   1825. 

BY  FAITH  HE   LIVED  ON  EARTH; 

IN  HOPE  HE  DIED  ; 

BY  LOVE  HE  LIVES  IN  HEAVEN. 

The  new  church  in  Sands-street  extends  over  his  re- 
mains and  those  of  his  revered  father.  They  now  lie  im- 
mediately under  the  pulpit. 

Besides  the  above  memorial,  another  monument  has 
been  dedicated  to  the  memory  of  the  lamented  Summer- 
field.  This  is  a  beautiful  cenotaph  which  the  Young  Men's 
Missionary  Society  of  the  Methodist  church  erected  to  com- 
memorate the  virtues  of  their  late  president  and  their  love 
for  him.  It  was  placed  in  the  front  of  the  church  in  John- 
street,  New  York,  near  the  western  corner  ;  but  on  rebuild- 
ing the  edifice,  the  trustees  evinced  their  aflbctionate  regard 
to  his  memory  by  placing  it  on  the  wall  within  the  church. 
The  tablet  is  of  black  marble,  finely  polished,  in  the  shape 
uf  a  cone.  Near  the  base  of  this  an  urn  is  atlixed,  standing 
upon  a  pedestal,  \\'ith  a  few  volumes  of  books  on  either  side. 
From  one  side  of  the  urn  a  mantle  hangs  down  in  graceful 
folds,  and  at  the  right  of  it  is  a  scroll  half  unrolled.  These 
are  elegantly  sculptured  from  a  block  of  very  fine  and  beau- 
tiful white  marble.  Upon  the  tablet  in  the  centre  the  fol- 
lowing tribute,  from  the  pen  of  bishop  Soule,  is  inscribed  ; 


272  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFJELD. 

SACRED 

®o  tl)c  IHcmorii  of  tl)c 
REV.    JOHN   SUMMEEFIELD,   A.M. 

"A  BURNING  AND  A  SHINING  LIGHT." 

UK   COMMENCED   HIS   MINISTERIAL   LABORS   IN   THE  CONNECTION 

OF     THE     WES  LEY  AN     METHODISTS     IN     I  U  ELAND: 

BUT   EMPLOYED   THE    LAST   FOUR.   YEARS   OF    HIS  LIFE 

IN    THE    ITINERANT    MINISTRY 

OF    THE    METHODIST    EPISCOPAL    CHURCH    IN    THE    UNITED    STATES. 

HIS  MIND  WAS   STORED  WITH   THE  TREASURES   OF   SCIENCE. 

FROM  A   CHILD   HE   KNEW  THE   HOLY  SCRIPTURES. 

MEEKNESS  AND   HUMILITY, 

UNITED    WITH    EXTRAORDINARY    INTELLECTUAL    POWERS, 

EXHIBITED    IN    HIS    CH.\RACTER    A    MODEL 

OF    CHRISTIAN    AND    MINISTERIAL    EXCELLENCE. 

HIS   PERCEPTION   OF   TRUTH   WAS   CLEAR  AND   COMPREHENSIVE; 

HIS    LANGUAGE    PURE, 

AND    HIS    ACTION    CHASTE    AND    SIMPLE. 

THE   LEARNED  AND   THE   ILLITERATE  ATTENDED   HIS   MINISTRY 

W  I  T  H    ADMIRATION, 

AND  FELT  THAT  HIS  PREACHING  WAS 

IN    THE    DEMONSTRATION    OF    THE    SPIRIT    AND    OF    POWER. 

DISTINGUISHED   BY  THE   PATIENCE   OF   HOPE, 

AND    THE    LABOR    OF    LOVE, 

HE    FINISHED    HIS    COURSE    IN    PEACE    AND    TRIUMPH. 

BORN  IN  PRESTON,  ENGLAND,  JAN.  31st,  1798. 
DIED  IN  THIS  CITY,  JUNE  1.3th,  1835 

Beneatli  the  tablet,  upon  the  base  of  the  black  marble 
groundwork,  is  the  following  inscription  : 

"This  Monument  was  erected  by  the  'Young  Men's  Missionary 
Society,'  of  which  the  deceased  was  President,  with  sincere  prayer  that 
the  ardor  of  his  zeal  in  the  cause  of  missions  may  live  in  liis  succes- 
sors, wlien  this  mar])le  .shall  moulder  into  dust." 


CONOLUJjlNa  REMARKS.  273 

CHAPTER   XVIII. 

GENERAL  COXCLUDIXG  OBSERVATIONS. 

The  foregoing  narrative  will,  it  may  be  presumed,  have 
little  ambiguity  as  to  Mr.  Summerfield's  character  and  pro- 
ceedings. Open,  indeed,  and  transparent  as  Merc  all  his 
actions,  there  are  no  difficulties  to  be  reconciled,  no  doubts 
to  be  cleared  away ;  and  happily  it  may  with  equal  truth 
be  added,  that  so  obviously  and  continually  was  the  spiritual 
purity  of  his  motives  reflected  in  his  private  as  well  as  public 
life,  that  candor  does  not  impose  on  his  biographer  the  un- 
gracious task  of  seeking,  by  extenuation  or  apology,  to  color 
a  single  particular  of  his  ministerial  career.  *  *  * 

The  susceptible  subject  of  these  memoirs  undoubtedly 
received  in  Ireland  that  clear  sense  of  pardon,  justification, 
and  acceptance  with  God,  to  which  he  ever  afterwards 
referred  as  his  spiritual  birth  ;  and  yet,  in  the  further  and 
future  work  of  sanctification,'  the  light  of  spiritual  illumina- 
tion in  him,  whatever  may  have  been  the  case  in  others,  did 
not  uninterruptedly  shine  "brighter  and  brighter  luito  the 
perfect  day  ;"  but  clouds  and  darkness  frequently  intercepted 
the  rays  of  that  Sun  of  righteousness  which  had  so  evidently 
arisen  on  his  soul.  Indeed,  the  Lord  seems  to  have  led  his 
servant,  not  with  the  shadow  by  day  and  the  glory  by  night, 
of  the  pillar  of  cloud  and  fire,  but  alternately  presenting  to 
him  the  light  of  the  flame  that  cheered  the  Israelites  on  the 
verge  of  the  Red  sea,  and  the  darkness  behind  that  frowned 
upon  the  Egyptians  their  pursuers.  But  God,  who  is  "  love," 
was  equally  present  in  the  splendor  and  the  terror  to  him — 
in  the  hidings  as  in  the  revealings  of  his  face — and  by  that 
mysterious  dispensation,  as  the  best  mode  of  guidance,  led 
him,  we  cannot  doubt,  through  the  sea  and  the  wilderness, 
over  Jordan  to  Canaan  and  Jerusalem  which  is  above. 

Perhaps  the  movement  least  explicitly  accounted  for, 
12* 


274  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

especially  as  tb  the  suddenness  of  it,  may  be  Mr.  Summer- 
field's  emigration  from  Ireland  to  America.  I  have  reserved 
for  this  place,  in  preference  to  interrupting  the  narrative 
elsewhere,  the  introduction  of  a  passage  from  his  diary  writ- 
ten at  Marseilles,  in  February,  1823.  After  some  solemn 
reflections  upon  his  removal  irom  Europe  and  settlement  in 
the  "  new  world,"  which  he  observes  will  not  only  operate 
upon  the  whole  of  his  future  existence  in  time,  but  with 
respect  to  himself,  run  into  eternity,  he  proceeds  : 

"  Circumstances  of  various  kinds,  and  a  strange  coinci- 
dence of  events  which  could  only  be  resolved  into  the  lead- 
ings of  a  providential  hand,  fully  confirmed  in  my  dear  and 
honored  father,  a  conviction  he  had  long  experienced,  that 
America  was  henceforward  to  become  our  home.  My  eldest 
sister's  having  married  and  removed  to  that  country  several 
years  before,  had  alw^ays  since  that  time  been  regarded  by 
him  as  an  earnest,  or  rather  a  pledge,  that  the  removal  of 
the  whole  family  would  succeed  sooner  or  later. 

"Having  in  the  autumn  of  1820  finished  his  engage- 
ment as  the  manager  of  a  certain  establishment  in  the  city 
of  Cork,  and  finding  no  opening  into  which  he  might  enter 
in  that  city,  and  thereby  provide  things  honest  in  the  sight 
of  all  men,  although  he  sought  for  it  with  all  diligence,  con- 
nected with  incessant  prayer  by  night  and  day,  he  paused, 
and  began  to  consider  this  as  the  time  to  which  he  had  so 
long  looked  forward.  Having  exercised  the  strictest  economy 
over  all  his  domestic  concerns  since  his  engagement  in  that 
city,  and  thereby  recruited  his  impoverished  circumstances, 
he  now  found  that  he  was  possessed  of  the  means,  and  but 
barely  tJte  tneans,  of  transporting  us  to  the  United  States ; 
and  fearing  that  these  means  would  so  consume  away  by 
much  procrastmation,  as  to  render  it  impracticable  perhaps 
during  the  remainder  of  his  life,  he  immediately  concluded, 
after  agonizitig  ^mycr  to  the  Father  of  lights  to  direct  him, 
to  prepare  to  quit  his  native  land.     A  vessel  having  put  into 


OONCLUDINU   REMARKS.  275 

the  port  of  Cork  by  stress  of  weather,  presented  an  opportu- 
nity which  seldom  occurs  there.  As  the  place  of  her  des- 
tination was  the  residence  of  mybrotlier  and  sister  in  Amer- 
ica, we  regarded  it  as  the  last  preparatory  step  by  which  the 
kind  providence  of  God  had  led  us  on.  Preliminaries  ad- 
justed, we  bade  adieu  to  Ireland  and  to  Europe  on  the  12th 
of  December,  1820,  and  arrived  in  New  York  the  17th  of 
March  following,  having  first  sailed  to  Portugal  to  take  in 
cargo.  Our  numbers  were,  two  sons,  two  daughters,  my 
dear  and  Ofily  parent,  and  a  servant-maid. 

"As  regards  myself,  independent  of  a  father's  commands 
which  were  laid  upon  me,  I  too  regarded  the  connection  of 
preceding  events  which  transpired  in  my  ministerial  labors, 
as  no  other  than  the  leadings  of  the  same  God,  who 

'' '  Plants  his  footsteps  in  the  sea. 
And  rides  upon  the  storm.' 

"  My  public  duties  in  Ireland  for  the  two  years  previous 
had  greatly  impaired,  if  not  totally  ruined  my  health — my 
journal  for  that  period  will  bear  ample  testimony  thereto ; 
this,  added  to  the  general  humidity  of  the  country,  rendered 
some  change  necessary  if  my  life  was  to  be  preserved.  For 
this  purpose  among  others,  1  visited  England  in  May,  1820, 
and  remained  there  till  after  the  Liverpool  conference  in  tlie 
July  and  August  following.  My  hope  was,  that  through  the 
interference  of  many  of  the  English  preachers  with  whom 
in  the  interval  I  had  become  acquainted,  I  might  be  removetl 
from  Ireland  to  the  air  of  my  own  country,  and  that  the 
change  would  have  a  favorable  efiect  upon  my  constitution  ; 
as  also  that  my  labors  would  be  greatly  reduced — a  measure 
which  my  situation  at  the  time  imperiously  demanded.  But 
notwithstanding  the  eflbrts  which  were  made,  and  th*  peti- 
tion of  the  Manchester  society  for  me  to  be  sent  to  them, 
the  Irish  representative,  brother  Tobias,  refused  to  give  con- 
sent to  my  removal,  without  which  consent  the  British  con- 
ference could  do  nothing.     At  the  same  time  knowing  how 


276  REV.  JOHN    SUMMEilFlELD. 

tender  and  afiecting  were  the  ties  by  which  1  was  bound  to 
the  scene  of  my  past  labors,  and  my  past  afflictions  too,  he 
Ikiled  not  to  use  every  persuasion  with  n:ie.  In  this  he  suc- 
ceeded too  well ;  I  gave  up  my  intention  and  returned  to 
Ireland,  to  the  city  of  Cork,  where  the  coulbrence  of  the 
Irish  brethren  had  stationed  me  at  their  preceding  session 
during  my  absence  in  England." 

It  is  a  striking  proof  of  Summerfield's  sincere  devotion 
to  God  and  his  cause,  that  in  obedience  to  his  father's  "com- 
mands," as  appears  above,  he  cheerfully  accompanied  his 
parent  to  America,  leaving  all  his  prospects  in  Ireland  and 
England  behind,  though  he  had  arrived  at  perilous  popular- 
ity in  the  former,  and  was  most  temptingly  pressed  to  settle 
in  the  latter  country — the  field  in  which  ambition,  in  the 
shape  of  Methodist  preaching,  would  choose  above  all  the 
world  besides,  to  shine  in  its  own  vain  glory ;  nay,  in  which 
the  honest  and  conscientious  man  of  gifts  and  graces  might 
justifiably  deem  that  he  would  be  the  most  usefully  em- 
ployed. This  then  was  forsaking  all,  denying  himself,  and 
taking  up  his  cross  to  ibllow  Christ.  *  *  * 

Few  ministers  in  America  ever  attained  a  higher  degree 
of  popularity  than  John  Summerfield,  and  no  man  ever 
courted  it  less.  It  commenced  with  his  first  sermon,  and 
continued  to  the  end  of  his  short  life.  It  would  be  worse 
than  affectation  to  insinuate  that  he  was  insensible  to,  or 
even  that  he  luidervalued  the  homage  paid  to  his  talents ; 
but  really,  when  we  reflect  upon  his  youth,  it  seems  little 
less  than  a  miracle  that  he  should  have  been  so  wholly  pre- 
served from  the  pernicious  influence  of  popular  praise.  Mod- 
esty and  humility  were  prominent  traits  in  his  character. 
This^was  universally  admitted.  The  Rev.  Dr.  Nevins  of 
the  Presbyterian  church,  Baltimore,  says  in  a  letter,  "I  have 
been  astonished,  that  in  all  my  intercourse  with  Summer- 
held,  I  never  heard  any  thing  from  him,  even  by  accident, 
that  savored  of  vanity.     He  was  literally  clothed  with  hu- 


CONCLUDING-   REMARKS.  277 

mility  ;  nor  was  the  garment  scanty.  What  popular  preacher 
but  he  ever  passed  before  the  world  without  being  at  least 
accused  of  aflectation  ?     That  he  was,  I  never  heard." 

He  liked  to  pix'ach  in  a  church  where  there  was  a  vestry, 
into  which  he  could  retire  immediately  after  service ;  where 
that  was  not  the  case,  as  often  happens  in  America,  he  has 
sometimes  felt  it  severely,  and  been  so  dissatisfied  Avith  hitn 
self  as  to  wish  that  there  was  a  trap-door  in  the  pulpit 
through  which  he  might  escape.  If  he  attended  the  preach- 
ing of  others,  he  preferred  an  obscure  place  among  the  con- 
gregation, as  he  did  not  like  to  attract  observation.  It  was 
a  pleasing  trait  in  his  character,  that  he  would  willingly 
listen  to  any  advice  that  might  be  given  by  a  friend,  and 
some  would  undertake  to  find  fault  with  little  things  :  for 
instance,  when  he  arrived  in  America,  he  -svore  a  gold  seal 
to  his  watch,  which  he  soon  found  was  an  eyesore  to  some ; 
he  therefore  promptly  laid  it  aside,  and  the  like  of  a  plaid 
cloak,  as  he  would  not,  he  said,  offend  one  of  the  weakest  of 
his  brethren. 

The  preparation  which  he  generally  made  for  the  pulpit 
was  as  follows  :  he  would  draw  a  rough  outline  of  a  sermon 
on  a  sheet  or  half-sheet  of  paper ;  and  after  preaching  it. 
determine  whether  or  not  it  was  worthy  of  being  transcribed 
into  his  book  of  ser7)ioJis ;  if  it  satisfied  him,  he  would  enter 
it  into  his  book  the  next  day.  Many  persons  would  doubt- 
less expect  to  meet  in  a  work  of  this  nature  with  some  spe- 
cimens of  those  discourses  which  produced  such  wonderful 
effects ;  nor  should  they  have  been  disappointed,  had  it  ap- 
peared that  the  present  writer,  by  copying  or  filling  up  one 
or  more  of  the  s/cetches  left  by  the  preacher,  could  have  done 
any  thing  like  justice  to  that  extraordinary  felicity  with 
which  his  own  vivd  voce  eloquence  filled  up  the  prescribed 
outline.  Such  an  attempt,  however,  would  only  exhibit  a 
gratuitous  failure  ;  indeed  to  a  certain  extent,  the  utmost 
fidelity  of  the  2)c/i  even  of  the  preacher  lumself,  would  have 


278  REV.   JOHN    SUMMEKFlELLi. 

conveyed  as  inadequate  an  idea  of  the  fascinations  of  his 
tongue  and  the  overflowings  of  his  heart,  as  an  indiflerent 
reporter  might  happen  to  do  of  either.  He  has  indeed  left 
one  pubhshed  discourse,  which  as  little  invalidates  the  latter, 
as  I  fear  the  present  work  may  the  former  clause  of  the  fol- 
lowing remark  :  "  I  almost  compassionate  the  biographer  of 
Summeriield,  however  great  his  graphic  talents  may  be," 
says  Dr.  Nevins,  "  for  I  anticipate  that  the  best  written  me- 
moir of  him  will  be  to  the  living,  speaking,  and  acting  Sum- 
merfield,  very  much  what  his  best  printed  discourse  was  to 
the  unwritten  eloquence  that  he  used  to  pour  forth  from  his 
heart  in  his  most  ordinary  sermons  ;  for  the  eloquence  of  our 
friend  was  preeminently  that  of  the  heart.  It  was  the  ora- 
tory of  nature  ;  and  I  have  often  remarked  that  in  any  age, 
in  any  country,  in  any  language,  and  under  all  circumstances, 
he  would  have  been  the  same  magic  master  of  the  human 
heart  that  we  felt  him  to  be." 

Let  it  not  however  be  hence  inferred  by  any  who  never 
heard  him  preach,  that  the  sermons  which  delighted  and 
edified  such  unprecedentedly  large  congregations,  were  defi- 
cient in  theological  excellency  :  quite  the  reverse.  I  have 
before  me  one  of  the  precious  volumes  of  manuscript  sermons 
above  alluded  to  :  it  is  a  beautiful  autograph  of  his  piety 
and  indu.stry,  and  contains  many  of  those  happy  combina- 
tions of  thought,  those  luminous  expositions  of  the  doctrines 
of  the  gospel,  and  those  judicious  illustrations  of  the  faith 
and  practice  of  Christianity,  which  formed  the  substrata  of 
his  eloquent  discourses.  But,  however  crowded  and  intelli- 
gible the  contractions  in  the  writing,  it  will  readily  be  con- 
ceived that  sketches  is  a  proper  epithet  to  designate  a  collec- 
tion of  the  outlines  of  one  hundred  and  seventy-six  sermons, 
comprised  in  seventy-four  post  octavo  pages. 

To  the  question  which  may  naturally  occur  here — What 
then  were  the  predominating  qualities  of  Mr.  Summerfield's 
mind  ? — the  answer  ought  unequivocally  to  be,  good  sense 


CONCLUDING-   REMARKS.  279 

and  GOOD  taste  :  qualities  most  rarely  found  in  combination 
with  fervency  of  feeling  and  a  spontaneous  eloquence.  To  say 
that  he  was  not  a  man  of  genius,  in  the  true  import  of  the 
term,  would  be  to  deny  the  whole  testimony  of  his  lil'e  ;  while 
to  assert  that  that  genius  Avas  of  the  very  highest  order, 
would  be  to  substitute  exaggeration  for  fact.  I  have  before 
me  the  following  sentence  in  the  handwriting  of  Mr.  Mont- 
gomery :  "  Summerfield,"  says  the  poet,  "  had  intense  animal 
feeling,  and  much  of  morbid  imagination  ;  but  of  poetic  feel- 
ing and  poetic  imagination,  very  little  ;  at  least,  there  is 
very  little  trace  of  either  in  any  thing  that  he  has  left,  be- 
yond a  few  vivid  but  momentary  flashes  in  his  sermons." 

His  personal  appearance,*  although  not  particularly  strik- 
ing on  ordinary  occasions,  was  allowed  by  universal  consent 
to  be  extremely  fascinating  in  the  pulpit.  His  countenance, 
when  in  tolerable  health,  was  one  of  the  most  lovely  descrip- 
tion, yet  had  it  at  the  same  time  an  expression  of  calmness 
and  solemnity  not  common  with  one  so  young.  The  Rev. 
J.  N.  Danforth,  in  a  generous,  judicious,  and  eloquent  obitu- 

*  The  Rev.  Dr.  Elliott  says  of  his  first  seeing  Mr.  Summerfield, 
"On  an  afternoon  in  1S24,  when  a  member  of  the  general  conference 
sitting  in  the  Eutaw  church,  we  saw  a  very  youthful  man  coming  into 
the  church,  who  took  his  seat  near  the  door.  Involuntarily  our  atten- 
tion became  fixed  on  the  youth-,  we  could  not  tell  what  so  secured  our 
regard.  When  he  smiled,  there  was  something  in  that  which  seemed 
to  be  the  attractive  point;  but  then  he  was  always  in  a  smile,  or  in 
good-humor.  Again,  his  very  youthful  appearance  came  forward  for 
the  prize  of  competition  with  the  other  characters  of  the  boy,  for  we 
called  him  a  boy  in  our  musings.  And  this,  after  all,  was  not  the 
thing.  Then  we  thought  he  must  be  so  pious,  for  he  was  just  like  an 
angel  who  had  selected  the  choicest  frame  for  his  temporary  abode. 
Still,  it  was  not  just  his  piety  that  swayed  so  completely  our  mmd. 
Well,  we  could  not  tell  what  it  was  which  commanded  our  regard. 
We  turned  to  the  president,  but  almost  immediately  our  eyes  were 
fixed  on  the  stranger  whose  atti'actions  engrossed  our  thoughts.  While 
engaged  in  this  musing,  brother  W inquired,  'Have  you  seen  Sum- 
merfield?' The  answer  was,  'No.'  'Well  there  he  is  sitting  yonder, 
near  the  door  '  " 


280  REV.   JUHN    SUMMERFIELD. 

ary  notice  of  liis  friend,  observes,  "But  he  had  his  inspira- 
tion ;  and  then  it  [his  discourse]  was  not  splendid,  nor  mag- 
nificent, nor  overpowering,  but  simple,  pure,  gentle,  and 
heavenly,  even  to  a  degree  of  sublimity,  and  certainly  to 
such  a  degree  as  I  believe  is  rarely  connected  with  mortality. 
His  eye,  which  like  his  countenance,  possessed,  on  your  near 
approach  to  him  for  the  first  time,  nothing  positively  strik- 
ing, assumed  a  dark  hue  in  the  pulpit ;  and  as  to  the  rest 
of  his  face,  if  you  wished  to  see  meekness  itself  embodied  in 
human  form,  there  it  was  in  Sammerfleld  as  he  stood  in 
the  sacred  desk,  the  messenger  of  the  Lamb  of  God — in  his 
face  and  attitude  and  manner — in  every  smile  of  rapture 
that  ligbted  up,  and  every  shade  of  melancholy  that  passed 
across  his  features.  He  never  used  notes  in  the  desk,  and 
even  smiled  sometimes  at  the  practice.  He  was,  however, 
systematic,  and  was  continually  interweaving  Scripture,  in 
the  most  natural  and  graceful  maimer,  with  the  thread  of 
his  discourse.  His  mind  seemed  to  be  stored,  his  very  spirit 
to  be  imbued  with  the  word  of  God.  It  dwelt  richly  in  him 
in  all  wisdom  and  spiritual  understanding.  He  preached 
from  fifty  minutes  to  an  hour — too  long  for  his  feeble  and 
wasting  frame." 

It  has  frequently  been  said  that  no  person  ever  did  so 
much  in  the  United  States  towards  destroying  s.cctarian 
bigotry  as  Mr.  Summerfield.  Every  sincere  preacher  of 
the  gospel  was  to  him  a  brother  ;  and  those  of  almost  every 
denomination  invited  him  in  turn  to  preach  for  them.  Im- 
mediately on  his  arrival  on  one  occasion  at  one  of  the  princi- 
pal cities,  he  was  waited  upon  by  a  number  of  gentlemen  of 
the  Protestant  Episcopal  church,  to  express  a  desire  that  he 
should  preach  in  one  of  their  churches.  With  this  request 
he  stated  his  willingness  to  comply,  provided  the  consent  of 
their  bishop  could  be  obtained.  The  bishop  was  consulted, 
but  declined  acquiescing,  observing  that  he  greatly  regarded 
Mr.  Summerfield  as  a  man,  and  esteemed  him  as  a  minister. 


CONCLULilNG-   REMARKS.  2bl 

but  that  the  ca)ion  of  the  church  prevented  his  consent, 
however  much  he  might  himself  be  pleased  to  hear  the 
young  man  preach.  Being  informed  of  this,  Mr.  Summer- 
field  pleasantly  replied,  "AYcll,  it  matters  not;  but  I  have 
always  thought  it  was  usual  to  spike  the  cannon  in  times  of 
peace." 

The  following  letter  from  the  Rev.  Dr.  Abercrombie,  an 
eminent  minister  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  church,  to  Mr. 
Summerfield,  is  equally  honorable  to  the  writer  and  the 
receiver. 

"Philadelphia,  June  1,  1822. 

"Rev.  and  dear  Sir — The  very  powerful  impression 
which  the  exercise  of  your  ministry  in  this  city  has  made 
upon  the  hearts  of  many  of  your  hearers,  induces  me  thus 
to  express  a  most  ardent  wish  on  their  behalf,  that  you 
would  &oon  indulge  us  wdth  another  visit,  that  you  may 
confirm  and  render  indelible  that  happy  efiect.  Much  oi 
the  good  seed  has  fallen  among  tkor)i$,  and  will,  I  lear,  be- 
come choked  and  unfruitful,  unless  invigorated  and  nour- 
ished by  your  refreshing  agency.  Your  exertions  among 
us,  sir,  have  been  blessed  with  great  success  in  awakening 
many  sleeping,  and  alarming  many  careless  professors  of 
Christianity;  and  as  a  brother-laborer,  though  a  very  feeble 
one,  in  the  vineyard  of  our  heavenly  Master,  I  can  no  longer 
resist  addressing  to  you  the  solicitation  given  to  St.  Paul, 
'Come  over  into  Macedonia  and  help  us.'  Your  'heart's  de- 
sire and  prayer  to  God  for  sinners  is,  that  they  may  be  saved;' 
and  as  the  talents  intrusted  to  you  have  been  happily  im- 
proved among  us,  I  trust  that  you  will  be  permitted  by  di- 
vine Providence  to  establish  the  good  work  which  you  luive 
begun,  and  carry  it  on  to  perfection.  Your  sincerity  and 
zeal  as  a  Christian,  and  your  urbanity  as  a  gentleman,  will, 
I  am  confident,  induce  you  to  pardon  this  intrusion  upon 
your  time  and  attention.  As  it  is  generally  known  I  enjoy 
the  pleasure  of  being  acquainted  with  you,  I  am  frequently 


282  EEV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

asked,  When  will  Mr.  Summerfield  favor  us  witli  another 
visit  ?     How,  my  good  sir,  shall  I  answer  this  question  ? 

"With  unfeigned  respect  and  esteem,  I  am.  Rev.  and 
dear  sir,  your  affectionate  friend  and  brother  in  Christ, 

"JAMES  ABEE.CR011BIE." 

It  may  not  be  improper  here  to  introduce  an  anecdote 
which  has  frequently  been  repeated  from  versions  more  or 
less  correct.  It  is  substantially  as  follows :  While  Mr.  Sum- 
merfield was  lying  in  bed,  during  one  of  his  illnesses,  he  was 
visited  by  two  highly  respectable  clergymen,  one  of  whom, 
commiserating  his  early  subjection  to  such  extreme  suflering 
in  consequence  of  his  ministerial  labors,  inquired,  "  How  old 
are  you?"  To  the  astonishment  of  the  divine,  the  suffering 
saint  replied,  "I  was  born  at  Preston  in  England,  in  1798, 
and  horn  again  at  Dublin  in  Ireland,  in  1817."  The  visitor 
expressed  at  once  his  surprise  and  curiosity  at  what  to  him 
was  so  strange  a  declaration.  Mr.  Summerfield,  no  less  ex- 
cited, with  great  propriety  exclaimed  in  the  language  of 
Jesus  to  Nicodemus,  "  Art  thou  a  master  in  Israel,  and 
knowest  not  these  things?"  and  then  related  to  them  the 
history  of  his  own  conversion.  The  sequel  is  gratifpng. 
The  reverend  gentleman,  after  departing,  inquired  of  his 
clerical  companion  whether  or  not  he  knew  any  thing  about 
this  strange  doctrine,  and  finding  that  he  too  was  a  subject 
of  the  same  happy  change,  set  himself  to  obtain  the  like 
blessing  with  a  sincerity  and  success  of  which  his  subse- 
quent ministrations  bore  satisfactory  testimony. 

Summerfield  was  commendably  particular  with  regard 
to  his  person  ;  plain,  but  remarkably  neat :  indeed,  careless- 
ness in  any  respect  did  not  belong  to  him ;  he  equally  dis- 
liked slovenliness  and  finery  in  a  minister  of  the  gospel, 
justly  holding  that  every  thing  ought  to  correspond  with 
the  dignity  and  importance  of  his  office. 

In  private  life  he  was  as  much  beloved  as  he  was  ad- 
mired in  his  public  character.     "There  was,"  says  a  minis- 


CONCLUDING    REMARKS.  283 

teiial  friend,  "something  vnicarthly  about  the  man;  and  yet 
he  Avas  a  man,  and  as  ailkble  and  condescending  as  if,  to 
use  his  own  expression,  he  was 'the  servant  of  all.'  Any 
one  who  was  disposed  to  complain  of  his  being  too  :nuch 
the  subject  of  conversation — justly  or  unjustly — or  of  his 
being  a  youth  unworthy  of  such  premature  celebrity,  forgot 
it  all  after  sitting  down  a  few  minutes  in  his  company." 
There  was  something  so  endearing  and  truly  aliectionate  in 
his  manners,  that  it  was  no  wonder  his  company  was  courted 
by  all  ranks. 

In  conversation  he  was  chaste,  lively,  and  sometimes 
facetious  ;  prolific  of  anecdotes  and  remarks  of  a  religious 
tendency.  He  had,  ui  astonishing  perfection,  the  faculty  of 
remembering  names :  it  mattered  not  how  large  a  family  he 
might  visit ;  should  there  be  a  dozen  children,  he  would  in- 
quire the  names  of  each,  and  would  ever  afterwards  remem- 
ber them  by  name,  even  to  the  servants. 

Mr.  Summerfield,  as  before  noticed,  was  fond  of  preach- 
ing to  children,  and  in  these  services  his  manner  was  pe- 
culiarly engaging.  It  was  a  delightful  scene  to  w'itness  his 
appearance  on  these  occasions — himself  like  a  boy  among 
his  juniors,  leaning  gracefully  over  the  pulpit,  in  a  manner 
best  comporting  with  the  familiar  and  affectionate  style  of 
his  address — his  juvenile  auditory  occupying  the  body  of  the 
church,  and  listening  with  the  most  steady  attention  to  their 
ingenuous  teacher.  Occasionally  he  put  questions  to  them, 
and  would  encourage  oral  answers,  and  tell  them  what  his 
next  subject  would  be,  that  they  might  be  prepared  to  reply 
to  his  interrogatories.  His  scope  and  illustrations  were  some- 
times so  happily  appropriate,  that  the  children  would  remem- 
ber nearly  a  whole  sermon.  After  enforcing  most  sweetly 
on  one  occasion  the  text,  "They  that  seek  me  early  shall 
find  me,"  he  said,  "Are  there  any  of  my  dear  little  hearers 
who  Avill  pledge  themselves  to  meet  me  to-morrow  morning 
at  the  throne  of  grace?"     Several  immediately  replied,  "/ 


284  REV.   JOHN    SLIMMERFIELI). 

ivill."  He  endeavored  to  excite  a  missionary  spirit  in  the 
children,  and  introduced  among  them  the  "'Tis  But"  box, 
that  they  might  save  a  few  cents  for  so  good  a  cause.  In 
1822  he  wrote  an  ingenious  juvenile  speech,  which  was  de- 
livered by  an  interesting  boy  eleven  years  of  age,  proposing 
a  missionary  resolution  which  Mr.  Snmmerfield  himself  sec- 
onded ;  the  little  fellow  presenting  at  the  same  time,  as  the 
representative  of  the  other  children,  the  sum  of  four  hundred 
and  ten  dollars. 

In  his  love  of  children  he  resembled  Mr.  Wesley.  It 
was  pleasing,  on  some  occasions,  to  see  the  little  ones  crowd 
about  the  altar  before  leaving  the  church,  each  anxious  to  be 
noticed  by  him.  He  would  sometimes  from  the  pulpit  invite 
them  to  call  upon  him  at  his  lodgings,  to  which  they  repaired 
in  groups,  when  he  would  leave  his  study  and  spend  some 
time  familiarly  with  them.  Children  from  all  parts  of  the 
city  would  bring  their  little  hymn-books  for  him  to  insert 
their  names,  which  he  usually  did,  accompanied  with  some 
suitable  remark  or  motto.  Among  the  numerous  instances 
of  his  attention  to  the  lambs  of  Christ's  flock,  occurs  the 
following:  A  boy  about  eleven  years  of  age,  after  one  of 
the  sermons  to  children,  remaiued  till  the  congregation  had 
nearly  dispersed,  when  he  attracted  Mr.  Summerfield's  no- 
tice. Stepping  forward,  he  said,  "My  little  boy,  do  you 
want  any  thing  with  me?"  He  appeared  overcome  with 
his  feelings,  and  could  only  say,  "  Mr.  Summerficld."  "  Well, 
my  love,  what  do  you  want  with  Mr.  Summerficld  ?"  The 
boy,  encouraged,  said  he  wished  Mr.  Summerfield  would  call 
at  his  mother's.  On  inquiring  where  his  mother  lived,  the 
name  of  the  street  and  the  number  of  the  house  were  given. 
"What  is  your  name?"  "John  Brown,"  replied  the  boy. 
"Well,  John  Brown,  to-morrow  at  eleven  o'clock  I  shall  pay 
you  a  visit."  Accordingly,  at  the  time  appointed,  Mr.  Sum- 
merfield waited  upon  him  ;  he  found  John  busily  employed 
sweeping,  fixing   the   fire,   and   preparing  for   his  visitor. 


CONCLUDlNd  REMARKS.  285 

"Well,  John,  here  I  am,  according  to  my  appointment." 
John  requested  him  to  take  a  seat  until  he  had  found  his 
mother.  She  was  a  pious  woman,  and  said  that  her  son 
had  heard  him  preach  whenever  he  had  addressed  the  chil- 
dren, and  that  his  mind  had  been  much  impressed  in- con- 
sequence. Mr.  Summerfield  knelt  down  and  prayed  with 
them;  and  before  he  went  away,  encouraged  John,  and 
gave  him  some  good  advice  ;  entered  his  name  on  the  list  of 
those  for  whom  he  felt  a  peculiar  interest,  and  told  him  that 
he  should  keep  his  eye  upon  him,  requesting  him  to  come 
and  speak  to  him  whenever  he  had  an  opportunity,  that  he 
might  ascertain  what  progress  his  little  friend  John  Brown 
was  making.  Carping  criticism  or  cold  philosophy  may  de- 
spise these  little  traits,  but  ministerial  wisdom  will  not. 

After  Mr.  Summerfield's  severe  illness  in  Philadelphia, 
in  1822,  when  he  had  so  far  recovered  as  to  be  able  to  ride 
out,  he  stopped  to  visit  a  pious  Presbyterian  lady,  who  like 
himself  had  been  on  the  threshold  of  eternity.  In  the  course 
of  conversation  she  inquired,  "Mr.  Summerfield,  what  were 
your  peculiar  views  and  feelings  at  that  solemn  moment 
which  it  was  thought  would  be  your  last?"  Mr.  Summer- 
field  said  that  he  felt  an  indescribable-  peace,  subduing  peace. 
"  If,"  continued  he,  "  I  had  at  that  moment  given  utterance, 
it  would  have  been  peace,  'pea.ce '.  I  felt  as  though  the 
spirit  were  waiting  for  the  word  '  come' — as  though  it  were 
soaring.  I  looked  back  upon  the  earth,  and  I  discovered 
that  there  were  two  slender  cords  which  held  me — the 
church  and  my  family ;  but  I  felt  that  even  these  could 
give  way."  After  a  pause  he  added,  "  Perhaps  it  may  be 
thought  strange,  but  I  have  never  desired  that  mine  should 
be  the  trium'phant  end  ;  singular  to  say,  I  have  ever  covet- 
ed the  end  ai peace,  iieace,  peace .'" 

Before  he  left  Baltimore  the  last  time,  and  but  a  few 
weeks  previous  to  his  death,  Mr.  Summerileld  was  waited 
upon  by  a  committee  of  ladies  from  the  Orphan  Asylum, 


286  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

requesting  him  to  plead  the  cause  of"  their  institution.  He 
informed  them  that  the  state  of  his  health  was  such  as  to 
preclude  him  from  many  duties  connected  with  his  own 
church  ;  at  the  same  time  expressing  much  regret  at  not 
being  able  to  comply  with  their  earnest  solicitation.  One  of 
the  ladies  thereupon  said,  "  Mr.  Summerfield,  promise  that 
on.  your  return  from  New-York  in  the  course  of  the  spring, 
you  will  suffer  us  to  have  a  claim  on  you?"  Raising  his 
eyes  heavenward  and  clasping  his  hands,  he  replied,  "Before 
that  time  I  expect  to  be  in  glory."  This  remark  produced 
an  electrifying  shock  upon  the  minds  of  his  friends  in  Balti- 
more, and  has  often  been  adverted  to  since  his  death,  as 
appearing  somewhat  prophetical. 

It  may  justly  be  a  subject  of  gratitude  with  his  friends 
and  with  the  members  of  that  church  with  which  he  was 
more  especially  connected,  that  short  as  was  the  life  and  in- 
teri'upted  as  Avas  the  ministerial  eai'eer  of  this  ardent  cham- 
pion of  the  cross,  he  not  only  left,  but  in  no  slight  degree 
contributed  to  make,  America  better  than  he  found  it.  His 
last  appearance  and  eflbrts  in  public  were,  as  already  stated, 
to  witness  and  celebrate  with  his  brother  ministers  one  of 
the  triumphs  of  Christian  charity  which  it  had  ever  been 
his  aim  to  promote.  At  the  first  public  meeting  of  the 
American  Tract  Society  he  was  present,  though  on  the 
verge  of  the  grave,  to  present  the  following  resolution,  which 
he  had  himself  drawn  up  :  "  That  as  all  permanent  good 
cometh  down  from  the  Father  of  lights,  we  do  give  ourselves 
continually  to  prayer  for  his  blessing  on  this  institution,  and 
do  urge  it  upon  all  the  lovers  of  our  Zion  to  aid  us  herein  by 
their  devout  supplications." 

This  resolution  he  advocated,  as  appears  above,  in  a 
strain  of  pious  fervor  which  well  became  one  who  was  so 
soon  to  join  in  the  songs  of  the  blessed.  *  *  *  He  declared, 
that  of  all  the  anniversaries  of  benevolent  institutions  which 
he  had  attended,  in  Europe,  in  Canada,  and  in  the  United 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS.  287 

States,  there  was  not  one  in  which  he  had  seen  a  spirit  of 
brotherly  love  and  Christian  affection  among  different  denom- 
inations, more  manifest.  This  he  felt  w^as  to  be  attributed 
to  the  presence  of  a  divine  influence.  His  own  sense  of  the 
goodness  of  God,  and  the  spectacle  he  then  witnessed,  affect- 
ed him  to  tears  again  and  again  during  the  course  of  the 
meeting,  for  he  felt  that  the  spirit  and  atmosphere  of  heaven 
filled  the  room  ;  but  he  looked  so  pale  and  emaciated,  that 
his  friends  could  hardly  suppress  a  tear  at  his  appearance. 
He  had  finished  his  course  ;  and  Providence,  as  if  to  render 
more  affecting  the  completion  of  the  circle  of  his  ministerial 
labors,  so  ordered  that  his  last  faltering  accents  in  public 
should  be  heard  in  the  very  same  room  in  which,  a  few  years 
before,  he  had  first  publicly  opened  his  lips  in  his  adopted 
country,  when,  in  the  Bible  Society,  he  held  the  audience  in 
rapt  surprise,  astonishment,  and  admiration. 

Mr.  Summerfield  having  been  waited  upon,  a  few  days 
before  his  death,  by  the  chairman  of  the  committee  appoint- 
ed to  prepare  the  address  of  the  Executive  Committee  of  the 
American  Tract  Society  to  the  Christian  public,  expressed 
his  earnest  desire  that  his  name  should  appear  with  those 
of  his  brethren  in  the  ministry,  as  an  evidence  of  the  deep 
interest  he  felt  in  the  prosperity  of  this  society. 

At  a  meeting  a  few  days  after  his  decease,  the  Executive 
Committee  resolved  unanimously  to  enter  upon  their  minutes 
the  following  record,  drawn  by  the  lamented  Rev.  Dr.  James 
Milnor,  whose  heart  blended  sweetly  with  the  catholic  spirit 
of  Summerfield  : 

"The  Committee  having,  since  their  last  meeting,  been 
called  to  mourn  over  the  severe  loss  to  which  it  has  been  the 
will  of  God  to  subject  this  infant  institution,  in  the  demise 
of  one  of  its  ablest  founders  and  friends,  the  Rev.  John  Sum- 
merfield of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  church,  deem  it  their 
duty  to  place  on  record  among  their  earliest  transactions,  a 
notice  of  this  afflicting  event.     While  they  forbear  in  the 


288  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

slightest  manner  to  murmur  at  the  inscrutable  dispensations 
of  an  all-wise  Providence,  they  cannot  withhold  the  expres- 
sion of  their  grief  at  the  loss  of  so  much  unfeigned  piety, 
active  zeal.  Christian  liberality,  splendid  talent,  and  warm 
devotion  to  the  particular  object  of  this  society,  as  character- 
ized their  deceased  associate  and  friend.  With  the  respected 
religious  community  to  which  he  was  attached,  with  his  im- 
mediate relatives  and  friends,  and  with  the  many  useful  in- 
stitutions with  which  he  was  connected,  the  committee  sin- 
cerely sympathize,  and  will  delight  long  to  cherish  in  their 
minds  the  pleasing  recollection  of  so  grateful  a  circumstance 
as  that  of  which  they  are  assured,  that  among  the  last  as- 
pirations of  a  saint,  now  as  we  trust  in  the  bosom  of  his 
Saviour  and  his  God,  this  institution  was  so  affectionately 
remembered,  and  his  kindest  wishes  left  for  its  prosperity 
and  success." 


REMINISCENCES.  289 


REMINISCENCES. 


The  Rev.  Dr.  Bond,  in  his  introduction  to  "  Summer- 
field's  Sermons  and  Sketches  of  Sermons,"  writes, 

"  His  discourses  did  not  strike  one  by  the  novelty  of  his 
opinions,  or  by  the  erudition  they  displayed.  There  were, 
it  is  true,  in  all  his  sermons,  '  thoughts  that  breathed  and 
words  that  burned ;'  but  for  the  most  part,  they  presented 
only  '  what  oft  was  thought,  though  ne'er  so  well  expressed.' 
What,  then,  was  the  irresistible  charm  in  his  preaching  ? 
We  honestly  confess  we  cannot  say.  We  have  some  vague 
idea  of  it,  but  cannot  embody  it  in  words.  There  was,  how- 
ever, one  peculiarity  which  could  not  fail  to  strike  the  hearer  : 
it  was  what  is  called,  by  common  consent,  simplicity.  The 
truths  he  dwelt  upon  he  had  felt  in  all  their  power,  and  he 
presented  them  in  the  simple,  chaste,  and  forcible  language 
of  unsophisticated  feeling.  The  hearer  who  participated  in 
his  religious  enjoyments,  responded  instinctively  to  the  verv 
spirit  of  the  preacher ;  and  one  who  knew  nothing  of  such 
experience  felt  that  it  was  the  most  important  want  of  his 
nature,  and  his  whole  soul  went  out  in  cravings  for  the  pos- 
session. It  was  this  simplicity  of  style  which  never  failed 
to  make  its  way  to  the  heart,  as  certainly  as  pompous  dic- 
tion and  parade  of  language  and  learning  shut  up  every 
avenue  to  the  feelings. 

"  But  though  there  was  much  iu  the  clear  perception, 
and  the  personal  experience  of  the  truths  presented,  and 
much  too  in  the  simplicity  of  the  style  and  language  in 
which  they  were  clothed,  it  must  be  admitted  that  there 
was  something  in  the  manner  of  the  preacher  which  greatly 
added  to  the  eflect  of  his  preaching.  But  who  can  describe 
this  manner  ?     It  was  not  the  gracefulness  of  his  attitudes 

Summerfield.  ]  .> 


290  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

and  action,  tliuugh  these  were  perfect.  Every  uioveiucnt, 
whether  of  body  or  members,  was  not  only  exactly  correct,  but 
intuitively  expressive  of  thought  or  feeling,  appearing  to  obey 
some  immediate  impulse  of  the  soul.  There  was  nothing 
theatrical,  nothing  studied,  nothing  which  gave  the  slightest 
suspicion  that  it  was  done  for  effect.  All  seemed  to  come 
unsought — the  immediate,  spontaneous  sympathy  of  a  body 
which  lived  and  acted  in  obedience  to  the  promptings  of  the 
soul  within  it.  Yet  this  was  not  the  peculiar  charm,  how- 
ever important  an  auxiliary  it  might  be.  It  was  not  even 
the  first  or  the  strongest  impression  made  on  the  auditory, 
though  it  could  not  fail  to  be  taken  into  the  account.  But 
that  which  we  remember  to  have  struck  us  most  forcibly  in 
the  manner  of  Mr.  Summerfield,  was  the  meekness,  the  hu- 
mility, the  lowliness  of  heart  which  appeared  in  his  whole 
deportment,  bringing  forcibly  to  the  mind  the  language  and 
the  example  of  Him  who  said,  '  Learn  of  me,  for  I  am  meek 
and  lowly  of  heart.'  Every  one  saw  personified  the  Saviour 
of  men  in  the  act  of  washing  the  feet  of  his  disciples,  and 
the  soul  clave  to  the  minister  who  bore  the  image  and  super- 
scription of  his  Lord.  It  was  this  that  so  prepossessed  you, 
as  to  subdue  and  shame  every  previously-formed  iutentiou 
to  criticize  the  coming  sermon.  The  affections  were  surren- 
dered at  once,  and  the  decisions  of  the  judgment  were  antici- 
pated by  the  suffrage  of  the  heart." 


The  Rev.  Dr.  Matthew  Riciiey  remarks  "of  this  ad- 
mirable and  lamented  young  minister,  whom  the  great  Head 
of  the  church  made  a  polished  shaft  in  his  quiver,  and  in 
whom  He  was  greatly  glorified," 

"  At  the  age  of  twenty-three,  Summerfield's  mind  exhib- 
ited a  harmony  and  an  expansion  which  very  rarely  antici- 
pate the  meridian  of  life.  The  unearthly  invigoration  of 
the  love  of  Christ  a  fiords  the  only  satisfactorv  solution  of 


REMINISCENCES.  291 

the  rapid  developiiieiit  oi"  his  imcommoii  mental  energies. 
Though  a  diligent  student,  time  had  not  permitted  him  to 
attain  lull  maturity  of  scholarship  ;  but  he  possessed  in  a 
high  degree  all  the  attributes  of  a  mind  of  the  first  oi'der. 
His  understanding  was  clear,  his  judgment  discriminating, 
and  his  imagination  so  vigorous  and  susceptible,  that  it  cost 
him  no  eflbrt  to  fling  the  hues  and  tints  of  vitality  over  the 
abstractions  of  truth,  and  thus  to  impart  to  the  most  com- 
monplace topic  all  the  freshness  and  interest  of  originality. 
The  natural  eilect  of  his  thrilling  eloquence  was  materially 
aided  by  a  person  and  manner  the  most  graceful,  and  an 
aspect  of  angelic  benignity  :  its  moral  charm  was  the  dem- 
onstration and  power  of  that  divine  Spirit 

'•  'Who  touched  Isaiah's  hallowed  lips  with  fire.' 
Summerfield  was  an  exteni'poraneous,  preacher,  so  far  as  it 
is  proper  for  any  young  minister  to  be  so.  His  sermons 
indeed  were  any  thing  but  unpremeditated  efiusions.  Hav- 
ing enjoyed  the  rare  intellectual  luxury  of  poring  over  his 
manuscripts,  we  are  prepared  to  state,  that  his  preparations 
.for  the  pulpit  evince  the  full  concentration  of  all  the  powers 
of  his  mind,  and  the  best  use  of  all  the  resources  of  know- 
ledge within  his  reach,  on  the  subjects  on  which  he  expati- 
ated. But  though  rich  in  thought  and  logical  in  their 
arrangement,  the  composition,  purposely  it  would  seem,  is 
left  unfinished.  Definitions  and  exegetical  remarks  are  gen- 
erally written  out  with  studious  accuracy  and  precision  ; 
but  the  occurrence  on  almost  every  page  of  broken  hints, 
followed  by  a  significant  dash  of  the  pen,  indicates  the  ora- 
tor's impatience  of  the  trammels  and  tedium  of  previous 
composition,  and  the  stirring  of  deep  emotion  within  the 
breast,  that  could  find  full  vent  only  amid  the  hallowed  ex- 
citements of  the  sanctuary.  He  did  not  '  oiler  to  God  of  that 
which  cost  him  nothing ;'  but  it  was  the  altar  that  sancti- 
fied his  gift,  and  the  fire  that  enkindled  his  sacrifice  issued 
immediately  from  the  propitious  heavens. 


292  REV.   JOHN   SUMMEllFJELD. 

"Whoever  would  form  or  exhibit  a  just  appreciation  of 
this  incomparable  youth,  must,  like  him,  be  decidedly  Wes- 
leyan  in  his  creed  and  predilections,  in  soul  an  orator,  and 
in  piety  a  saint. 

"'0  natc,  ingentcm  hictuin  no  qu;cro  tuoruin ; 
Ostendont  terris  huno  tantuin  fata,  nequo  ultra 
Esse  sinent.'  " 


REMINISCENCES  BY  MARINUS  WILLETT,  M.  D. 

"  The  first  opportunity  I  had  of  seeing  Mr.  Summerfield 
was  on  the  platlbrm  of  the  City  Hotel,  on  the  anniversary 
of  the  American  Bible  Society,  in  the  year  1822.  On  that 
occasion,  the  venerable  .Iud<re  Boudinot  excited  a  deep  inter- 
est ;  but  among  the  excellent  and  distinguished  men  present, 
a  youth  of  lovely  expression  and  interesting  form  attracted 
my  particular  attention.  Many  hours  were  occupied  in  lis- 
tening to  the  report  and  to  the  addresses  ;  the  audience  began 
to  evince  strong  symptoms  of  weariness  :  when  this  youth 
arose,  instantly  every  eye  was  fixed  upon  him.  The  first, 
burst  of  eloquence  was  followed  by  a  second,  which  raised 
the  hearers  from  their  seats ;  this  was  soon  succeeded  by  a 
third,  which  produced  loud  and  universal  applause.  Such 
a  mode  of  expressing  feeling,  on  cuiy  similar  occasion,  had 
never  before  been  witnessed  in  our  city  :  a  most  striking 
proof  of  the  poAver  of  eloquence. 

"From  the  similarity  of  Summerficld's  cai"eer  to  that 
of  Whitefield,  it  has  been  suggested,  that  as  a  preacher  he 
must  have  resembled  that  distinguished  orator.  I  heard  a 
very  aged  gentleman,  who  often  enjoyed  the  opportunity  of 
hearing  the  latter,  and  entertained  a  most  exalted  opinion 
of  his  merits,  and  Avho,  pi'ior  to  his  hearing  Mr.  Summer- 
field,  was  rather  oflended  at  the  suggestion  that  his  talents 
must  resemble  Whitefield's — on  hearing  Mr.  Summerfield 
for  the  first  time,  this  gentleman  remarked,  '  I  must  candidly 


REMINISCENCES.  293 

confess  that  there  is  an  interest  in  the  preaching  of  the  latter 
which  surpasses  that  of  the  former.  There  is  the  same 
faithful  exhibition  of  the  truth,  the  same  earnest  appeals  to 
sinners,  the  same  evidence  of  a  holy  heart  most  solemnly 
impressed  with  the  value  of  the  soul,  and  the  same  ardent 
desire  to  save  it  from  eternal  woe.  But  there  is  a  richer  and 
a  more  delightful  eloquence  in  the  presentations  of  the  truth, 
an  expression  of  countenance,  a  charm  of  manner,  a  simplic- 
ity and  grace  of  gesture,  a  SAveetness  of  voice,  and  a  clear- 
ness of  thought,  which  certainly  makes  Mr.  Summerfield,  on 
the  whole,  a  more  interesting  preacher.' 

"  It  was  the  custom  of  Mr.  Summerfield  to  rise  early. 
He  often  quoted  the  remark  of  Wesley,  that  a  man  could  not 
make  great  attainment  in  the  divine  life  who  refused  to 
commence  the  day  with  this  act  of  self-denial.  On  the 
morning  of  the  Lord's  day,  he  was  particularly  solicitous  to 
have  a  large  portion  of  time  for  devotional  exercises.  The 
influence  of  this  practice  upon  his  heart,  I  have  had  the 
opportunity  of  remarking  in  the  savor  of  his  conversation  on 
his  Avay  to  the  house  of  God.  He  had  evidently  obtained  a 
peculiar  blessing.  This  was  manifest  by  a  deep  sense  of  the 
divine  presence,  a  most  exalted  view  of  the  honor  of  being 
an  ambassador  from  God,  a  solemn  sense  of  his  responsibility 
in  the  faithful  delivery  of  his  message,  and  an  earnest  desire 
that  the  sinner  should  be  saved.  On  one  occasion  he  occu- 
pied the  time  of  a  long  ride  in  giving  utterance  to  thoughts 
expressive  of  these  sentiments.  So  serious  and  devotional 
were  these  occasions,  that  I  shall  always  remember  them  as 
the  most  interesting  of  my  life. 

"  Few  persons  of  any  seriousness  will  forget  his  morning 
services  in  the  house  of  God,  which  were  invariably  set  apai-t 
for  Christians  ;  the  evening,  for  the  promiscuous  assembly. 
Having  in  his  earl^  closet  devotions  obtained  so  great  a 
blessing  for  himself,  we  cannot  be  surprised  that  he  should 
communicate  a  srreat  blessinsr  to  his  hearers. 


294  REV.    JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

"  His  popularity  was  prealer  rvith  all  deno^ninations  of 
Christians  than  that  of"  any  preacher  we  have  ever  had  in 
this  city,  and  it  never  waned. 

"  Mr.  Surnmerficld  possessed  in  an  eminent  degree  the 
talent  of  parlor  'preaching.  In  whatever  society  he  was 
placed,  he  did  not  fail  to  use  this  talent  in  his  Master's  ser- 
vice. So  rich  and  abundant  were  his  resources,  that  the 
conversation  never  flagged :  he  maintained  it  with  an  inter- 
est and  vivacity  that  charmed  and  edified  every  hearer.  He 
possessed  a  great  fund  of  wit,  in  the  use  of  which  he  occa- 
sionally iiidulged  ;  but  it  was  with  much  caution  and  re- 
straint. On  one  occasion,  we  spent  half  an  hour  in  compauy 
with  a  political  gentleman  of  distinguished  talent,  who  had 
great  skill  in  repartee,  but  was  entirely  destitute  of  piety. 
Mr.  Summerfield  met  him  on  his  favorite  ground,  and  op- 
posed him  with  remarkable  shrewdness,  and  a  display  of" 
talent  which  was  really  delightful ;  at  the  same  time,  he 
did  not  omit  to  impress  solemnly  on  his  conscience  his  duty 
to  his  (xod. 

"  We   spent  a  few  days  together  at  the  house  of  Mr. 

G s,  at  Rhinebeck.     Every  person  acquainted  with  that 

devoted  family  will  appreciate  the  influence  felt  by  all  who 
came  within  their  social  circle.  Mr.  Summerfleld's  presence 
excited  and  drew  forth  with  unusual  power  the  spirituality 
and  devotional  feelings  of  all.  Mr.  Summerfield  preached 
in  their  house  to  the  family  and  neighbors.  He  also  preached 
in  the  Methodist  church  ;  but  so  great  was  the  crowd,  that 
few,  comparatively,  were  accommodated.  This  induced  them 
to  make  suitable  preparations  for  a  sermon  in  a  gi'ove.  The 
day  was  extremely  pro])itious  ;  a  large  multitude  assembled ; 
the  silence  and  attention  of  the  people,  the  youth,  eloquence, 
and  solemnity  of  the  preacher,  the  fine  effect  of  the  solemn 
service  amid  the  trees  of  the  grove,  preduced  an  impression 
long  to  be  remembered. 

"  Mr.  Summerfield  proceeded  to  Albany  for  the  purpose 


REMINISCENCES.  295 

of  preaching  a  sermon  and  making  a  collection  towards  pay- 
ing the  debt  of  the  church  in  that  city.  On  this  occasion, 
Dr.  Lacy  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  church,  Avith  a  singular 
generosity,  offered  the  use  of  his  church ;  and  though  the 
service  was  held  on  a  week-day  evening,  the  church  was 
crowded  to  overflowing.  His  text  was,  'Seek  ye  first  the 
kingdom  of  God,'  etc.  At  the  close  of  the  discourse,  he 
seized  the  opportunity  of  alluding  to  the  change  which  had 
taken  place  within  a  few  years  in  the  sentiments  entertained 
by  persons  of  different  denominations  to,wards  each  other. 
He  described  a  large  vine,  whose  branches  extended  in  sev- 
eral directions ;  the  different  vine-dressers  had  built  their 
walls  around  their  branches.  If  you  enter  the  separate  en- 
closures and  taste  the  fruit,  you  will  find  the  various  modes 
of  culture  and  training  have  produced  a  difference  in  the 
flavor :  by  and  by  the  great  Vine-gatherer  will  come  and 
collect  all  the  fruit  from  these  many  enclosures,  and  press 
them  in  the  common  tcine-jjress ;  then  it  will  be  impossible 
to  distinguish  any  difference.  A  few  years  ago,  he  said, 
these  party-walls  were  so  high,  that  he  could  not  look  over 
them  ;  but  9ioiv,  he  had  absolutely  leaped  over  them. 

"  From  Albany  he  went  to  Troy,-and  was  entertained 
at  the  house  of  an  Episcopalian  of  that  city,  so  pager  were 
persons  of  all  denominations  to  manifest  their  respect  for  one 
whose  character  was  so  well  calculated  to  win  their  friend- 
ship and  admiration.  He  was  anxious  to  promote  every 
good  work.  He  took  a  deep  interest  in  the  formation  of  the 
'  American  Tract  Society  '  He  embraced  the  liberal  opin- 
ion, that  as  the  points  of  difference  between  t)'uc  Christian.s 
are  very  few,  and  probably  of  trifling  importance,  a  com- 
bined effort  of  all  denominations  in  preaching  the  gospel,  by 
means  of  the  press,  to  the  millions  of  our  land,  may  be  ex- 
pected to  produce  the  happiest  results  ;  an  anticipation  that 
has  been  most  fully  realized." 


29G  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

LETTER  FROM  BISHOP  IJ.  B.  BASCOM,  D.  D.,  TO  THE  REV.  SAMUEL 
K.  JENNINGS. 

"Pittsburg,  Penn.,  June  20,  182-5. 

"Dear  Doctor — I  have  just  learned  that  our  friend 
Stimmeufield  i.s  no  more.  I  read  the  obituary  notice  of  his 
death  with  mingled  emotions  of  regret  and  admiration.  I 
regret  most  sincerely  that  the  church  and  the  world  have 
sustained  a  loss  of-  such  magnitude,  but  am  forcibly  struck 
with  admiration,  when  I  learn  the  manner  in  which  our 
friend  encountered  death,  his  'final  foe.'  He  has  doubtless 
exchanged  the  toih  and  chities  of  time  for  the  rest  and  re- 
%cards  of  eternity.  In  my  estimation,  John  Summerfield 
exhibited  a  rare  union  of  talent  and  piety,  of  ability  and 
worth.  He  certainly  possessed  a  mind  of  no  ordinary  rnould, 
and  a  heart  of  no  common  virtue.  As  a  man  and  a  minis- 
ter, he  was  uncjuestionably  '  one  of  a  thousand.'  If  we  have 
among  us  those  who  possess  equally  discriminating  minds, 
there  are  few  indeed  who  can  lay  claim  to  the  same  exquis- 
ite culture  and  discijMne  of  thought  and  feeling.  I  sin- 
cerely wish  the  world  may  be  furnished  with  some  specimens 
of  his  admirable  skill  as  a  preacher. 

"  From  his  known  habits  of  study  and  preaching,  I  think 

he  must  have  left  behind  some  valuable  manuscripts.     It  is 

a  thought,  in  my  opinion,  worthy  the  attention  of  his  friends 

and  a  generous  public.     Would  to  God  I  were  the  favored 

Elisha  destined  to   share  the  benediction,  and  catch  the 

inspiration  of  his  mantle.     It  is  a  dispensation  of  Providence 

iii  which  few  will  acquiesce  without  feelings  and  expressions 

of  the  deepest  regret  and  disappointment.     It  requires  more 

of  the  Christianity  of  the  New  Testament  than  most  of  us 

j)ossess,  to  say,  in  such  cases  of  affliction  and  bereavement, 

"  '  Perish  the  grass,  and  fade  the  flower, 
If  firm  the  word  of  God  remains.' 

Summerfield  is  dead,  but  his  '  blossom  has  not  gone  up  like 

the  dust.'     Long  will  he  live  and  flourish  in  the  memory  of 

thousands." 


REMINISCENCES.  297 

RECOLLECTIONS  OF  SUMMERFIELD,  BY  MRS.  CREAGH. 

"It  was  in  the  year  1820,  when  residing  in  Fermoy,  Ire- 
land, that  I  first  became  acquainted  with  the  late  Rev.  John 
Summerfield.  At  that  time  an  intimate  friendship  com- 
menced, which  continued,  except  during  short  intervals  of 
local  separation,  until  his  death. 

"  It  was  my  happiness  to  be  intrusted  with  a  large  share 
of  his  confidence  and  afiection  ;  by  which  I  became  familiar 
with  the  sweetness  of  his  disposition,  the  tenderness  of  his 
feelings,  the  purity  of  his  heart,  and  the  elegant  refinement 
of  his  mind :  all  which,  in  connection  with  his  other  rare  en- 
dowments, made  him  an  object  of  special  interest  and  regard. 

"This  early  acquaintance  afibrded  me  an  opportunity  oi 
hearing  him  preach  some  of  his  first  sermons,  before  his 
fame  had  preceded  him  ;  and  I  can  confidently  say  that  even 
this  incipient  stage  of  his  ministerial  career  was  strongly 
marked  by  indications  of  that  elevated  style,  charming  elo 
quence,  and  chastened  imagination,  which  shone  'more  and 
more  unto  the  perfect  day,'  and  which  captivated  wondering 
thousands  in  both  hemispheres  who  hung  with  rapture  upon 
his  lips. 

"  His  entrance  upon  the  work  of  the  ministry  was  not 
to  him  'a  cause  of  small  import.'  This,  not  only  the  ex- 
pressions of  his  lips,  but  the  struggles  of  his  heart,  amply 
testified.  Frequently  have  I  been  pained  in  witnessing 
those  unutterable  emotions  within  him  which  seemed  to  say 
in  language  which  none  but  an  ambassador  of  Christ  can 
fully  understand,  'Who  is  sulficient  for  these  things?' 

"But  in  'doing  the  work  of  an  evangelist,  and  making 
full  proof  of  his  ministry,'  it  was  made  manifest  unto  all 
that  his  'sufficiency  was  of  God,  who  had  made  him  an 
able  minister  of  the  New  Testament,'  and  by  whose  all- 
inspiring  Spirit  the  '  letters  of  his  commendation '  were  writ- 
ten and  sealed  upon  many,  many  hearts. 

"Soon  after  he  was  thus  engaged  in  his  Master's  vine 
13* 


298  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

yard,  a  correspondence  between  us  commenced  ;  from  which 
I  learned  that  incessant  demands  were  made  upon  the  time 
and  services  of  this  incomparable  youth ;  for  quickly  his 
'praise  was  in  all  the  churches.'  Indeed,  so  numerous  and 
pressing  w^ere  the  invitations  from  all  quarters,  that  my 
fears  were  soon  excited  le.st  his  feeble  tenement  should  early 
fall  beneath  the  weight  of  his  abundant  labors ;  for  while 
the  listening  multitudes  were  charmed  and  transported  with 
the  exhibition  and  development  of  such  extraordinary  pow- 
ers, they  apparently  forgot  that  the  treasure  was  deposited 
in  an  'earthen  vessel' — that  so  rich  and  rare  a  jewel  was 
encased  in  so  frail  a  casket. 

"  His  letters  were  always  welcome  visitors  :  they  bore  his 
own  'image  and  superscription' — the  impress  of  his  mind 
and  heart.  The  former,  original,  vigorous,  expansive,  and 
liberal ;  the  latter,  holy,  humble,  fervent,  and  heavenly — 
breathing  forth,  under  the  influence  of  burning  zeal  and  ar- 
dent love,  '  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace, 
good  will  towards  men.' 

"The  easy,  fascinating  style  of  his  letters,  their  freshness 
of  thought,  their  fruitfulness  of  incidents,  together  with  the 
spirit  of  piety  with  which  they  were  so  richly  imbued,  still 
live  in  my  fond  remembrance,  and  bring  to  mind  that  the 
writer  of  them  'lived  and  moved  and  had  his  being'  in  the 
pure  element  of  living  faith  and  holy  love. 

"  In  private  life  he  was  no  less  pleasing.  Afiable,  courte- 
ous, cheerful,  and  instructive,  ho  was  the  happiness  of  the  so- 
cial circle.  The  aged  sat  and  wondered  at  the  wisdom  which 
fell  from  his  lips ;  while  the  young,  rejoicing  in  his  presence, 
delighted  to  honor  him  as  their  instructor  and  friend. 

"His  first  visit  to  my  house  made  impressions  on  my 
heart  which  have  never  been  obliterated  ;  and  ever  after 
his  expected  coming  was  regarded  by  every  member  of  my 
family,  to  whom  he  became  individually  endeared,  with 
heartfelt  pleasure  and  dehght. 


REMlNIriOENCES.  299 

"  In  fine,  'he  was  a  burning  and  a  shining  light,'  a  brill- 
iant star  in  the  right  hand  of  his  Eedeemer  ;  and  though  no 
more  seen  in  the  moral  firmament  of  the  visible  church  re- 
flecting the  glory  of  his  living  Head,  he  has  not  '  fallen  from 
heaven,'  but  is,  doubtless,  'shining  forth  as  the  sun  in  the 
kingdom  of  his  Father.'  " 


FROM  A  SKETCH  BY  THE  REV.  JOSHUA  N.  DANFORTH. 

"Here  is  a  character  strongly  marked,  finely  developed, 
firmly  intrenched  in  the  public  affections.  To  mention  his 
name,  is  to  awaken  various  emotions  in  the  minds  of  those 
who  knew  him — who  have  heard  him  preach — who  have 
witnessed  his  walk  and  conversation.  In  some  it  may  be 
an  emotion  of  delight  at  the  recollection  of  such  moral  ex- 
cellence ;  in  others,  of  gratitude  for  the  bestowment  of  so 
choice  a  gift  on  the  church  of  Christ.  *  * 

"  In  surveying  the  points  of  the  character  of  Summerfield, 
perhaps  the  most  obvious  one  was  simjilicity .  We  may  take 
that  word,  for  its  present  application,  in  its  widest  sense. 
Truly  we  might  say,  '  Behold  an  Israelite  indeed,  in  whom 
there  is  no  guile.'  The  simplicity  that  is  in  Christ  is  some- 
thing beyond  that  which  is  called  'the  perfection  of  moral 
integrity.'  It  is  an  element  of  grace,  pure,  spiritual,  holy ; 
in  its  origin,  heavenly — in  its  tendency,  divine,  assimilat- 
ing the  soul  to  the  image  of  its  Maker,  and  ripening  it  for 

heaven. 

"But  besides  this,  there  is  a  general  simplicity  of  mind 

and  of  manner,  of  thinking  and  of  acting,  which  is  invested 
with  a  peculiar  charm,  and  which  raises  its  subject  far  above 
the  arts  and  aflectatlons  of  human  vanity.  Tliis  was  pos- 
sessed by  our  filend  in  an  eminent  degree,  forming  one  of  the 
most  attractive  traits  of  his  character.  If  he  was  eloquent, 
his  eloquence  was  native  to  the  soul,  not  assumed  after  any 
exterior  fashion  for  the  production  of  an  artilicial  eflect.     If, 


300  REV.    JOHN   SUMMERFJKLD. 

for  the  sake  of  illustration,  he  drew  liberally  from  every  ac- 
cessible storehouse  of  thought,  his  favorite  resort,  next  to  the 
Bible,  was  the  treasures  of  nature.  In  her  school  he  had 
studied  profoundly,  and  rich  were  the  revelations  his  teacher 
made  concerning  the  ways  and  means  of  obtaining  access  to 
the  immortal  minds  of  his  fellow-creatures.  Those  secrets 
seem  reserved  for  a  few,  though  the  word  of  God  is  not  bound 
to  exalted  genius,  or  to  extensive  lore.  He  rose  in  the  pulpit, 
calm,  pale,  pensive, 

'"And  in  his  garland,  as  he  stood, 
Ye  might  discern  tlie  cypress  bud.' 

To  see  him  was  to  yield  the  heart  in  advance,  such  was  the 
magic  of  his  presence.  His  letter  of  commendation  was  un- 
written, except  on  the  young,  saintly  brow,  whose  expression 
betokened  communion  with  God  and  benevolence  to  man. 
'  He  looks  like  a  lamb,'  said  a  thoughtless  youth,  who  was 
imafiected  by  his  preaching.  That  is  the  idea.  A  child 
expressed  it,  unconscious  that  the  term  is  selected  by  inspi- 
ration to  set  forth  the  gentleness  of  Christ,  the  Master  of 
us  all. 

"  To  simplicity  there  was  added  gentleness.  The  heart 
loves  to  contemplate  this  quality  wherever  developed.  It  is 
taught  in  the  forms  of  nature.  Men  have  found  symbols  for 
it  in  animate  and  inanimate  objects.  The  very  color  of  the 
earth  is  attempered  to  the  tenderness  of  the  organ  of  vision,  ' 
and  'the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb;'  a  happy  thought,  happily 
expressed,  on  which  the  popular  admiration  has  seized,  and 
stereotyped  it  for  all  future  use. 

"  Gentleness  in  man — gentleness  connected  with  superior 
intellect  and  a  vivacious  imagination — gentleness,  especially 
when  combined  with  energy  of  character,  is  one  of  the  rarest 
and  richest  endowments  of  humanity.  Stopping  at  the  point 
where  it  might  degenerate  into  weakness,  it  softens  and  con- 
ciliates without  inspiring  contempt,  or  even  impairing  confi- 
dence.    Meekness  and  majesty,  when  allied,  constitute  the 


REMINISCENCES.  301 

highest  order  of  moral  beauty.  Strength  and  majesty  may 
overawe,  but  the  other  charms  and  subdues.  It  disarms 
opposition,  and  makes  conquest  easy.  The  '  legate  of  the 
skies,'  then,  must,  first  of  all,  conciliate.  I  do  not  mean 
that  he  must  say  smooth  things,  or  soften  down  the  tone,  or 
abridge  the  requirements  of  the  gospel,  but  he  must  gain  the 
attention  of  men,  and  that  is  most  certainly  gained  through 
the  feelings.  When  the  affections  are  interested,  the  whole 
mind  easily  and  naturally  follows  in  their  train.  It  may  not 
be  affection  for  gospel  truth,  but,  if  it  be  a  kind  sentiment 
towards  its  herald,  the  door  is  open,  let  him  enter.  Now 
herein  the  young  ambassador  excelled.  So  much  gentle- 
ness— such  suavity — such  lieart-felt  kindness  for  men — so 
tender  a  solicitude  for  their  eternal  salvation,  as  to  be  willing 
to  labor  for  them,  while  he  was  himself  afilicted  with  sick- 
ness— to  exhaust  himself  when  there  was  little  to  be  ex- 
hausted— to  spend  and  be  spent  in  great  weakness  and 
w^eariness:  all  this  was  visible,  palpable  to  the  most  super- 
ficial observer.  And  it  threw  around  him  such  a  solemn, 
tender,  and  continually  augnaented  interest,  as  few  men  have 
been  able  to  secure  in  similar  circumstances.  It  enabled 
him  to  deal  much  with  tlie  heart ;  for  the  spirit  of  love 
crowned  the  labor  of  love,  and  many  a  devout  pilgrim  fol- 
lowed, as  he,  in  imitation  of  the  chief  Shepherd,  led  the 
way  to  the  green  pastures  and  the  tranquil  fountains  of  the 
better  land. 

"His  eloquence  was  not  of  the  vehement  kind.  It  did 
not  rush,  like  that  of  \Yhiterield,  in  an  impetuous  torrent, 
sweeping  down  the  barriers  of  depravity  with  an  almost  re- 
sistless energy.  It  distilled  like  the  dew  of  heaven,  penetrat- 
ing the  minutest  fibres  of  the  soul,  setting  in  motion  the 
secret  and  delicate  springs  of  human  action,  and  rousing  the 
dormant  sensibilities  to  themes  and  objects  worthy  of  their 
highest  and  holiest  exercise.  The  brightness  of  hope,  the 
vigor  of  faith,  the  ardor  of  love,  the  tenderness  of  penitence, 


302  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

glowed  more  intensely  on  the  moral  canvas,  as  it  received 
the  touches  of  that  pencil  with  which  he  painted  for  eter- 
nity. It  was  not  the  gift  of  the  schools — it  was  no  result 
of  artificial  training,  no  fruit  of  elaborate  scholastic  disci- 
pline that  he  exhibited.  His  mind  was  never  moulded  into 
the  forms  and  modes  of  an  exact  logic.  He  respected  that 
science,  but  had  his  own  way  of  presenting  the  truth,  or 
rather  he  studied  the  ways  of  the  Bible.  '  His  delight  was 
in  the  law  of  the  Lord,  and  in  his  law  he  meditated  day  and 
night.'  He  studied  logic  with  Paul,  rhetoric  Avith  David, 
history  with  Moses  and  the  evangelists,  prophecy  with 
Isaiah,  and  the  art  of  .preaching  with  Him  who  '  spake  as 
never  man  spake.'  His,  genius,  perseverance,  and  quench- 
less love  triumphed  over  all  diffiQulties,  surmounted  all 
obstacles,  and,  by  the  assistance  of  the  grace  of  God,  enabled 
him  to  make  the  most  of  a  brief  and  sickly  life.  He  filled 
up  the  measure  of  his  duty,  and  thus  gave  an  example  to  all 
young  men  of  a  similar  spirit,  if  not  of  equal  abilities,  which 
should  be  devoutly  studied  and  earnestly  imitated.  He  ac- 
quired character,  not  so  much  by  making  that  his  direct 
object,  as  by  acting  on  those  high  and  conscientious  princi- 
ples, consecrated  to  the  glory  of  God,  which  necessarily  led 
to  that  result. 

"  Humility  is  said  to  be  the  loveliest  floM^er  that  blooms 
in  this  vale  of  tears.  With  this  he  was  adorned.  It  was 
one  of  the  habitual  graces  of  his  character — the  certain  pre- 
cursor of  that  exaltation  in  public  esteem,  to  which  he  rose 
with  no  premeditated  eflx)rt  of  his  own.  The  Christian 
loved  to  hear  him  preach,  because  his  soul  was  fed ;  the 
philanthropist,  because  there  was  so  much  of  the  soul  of 
philanthropy  in  him  ;  the  lover  of  eloquence,  because  his 
taste  was  gratified;  the  man  of  emotion,  because  the  tide  of 
feeling  was  certain  to  rise ;  the  inquiring  mind,  for  it  would 
be  led  to  Jesus ;  the  doubting  spirit,  for  it  would  be  tran- 
quillized ;  the  desponding,  for  it  would  be  cheered  and  reas- 


REMINISCLNCES.  303 

sured ;  the  liberal  man,  for  he  had  an  opportunity  to  indulge 
in  the  luxury  of  charity  under  the  stimulus  of  eloquence; 
and,  it  may  be  added,  there  was  something:  in  that  same 
eloquence  Avhich  deeply  affected  the  female  heart.  Around 
the  sensibilities  of  the  tender  sex  it  seemed  to  throw  a  kind 
of  enchantment,  which  held  them  in  an  enthusiasm  of  ad- 
miration, and  might  be  said  almost  to  tempt  them  to  a  species 
of  idolatry,  the  spirit  of  which  would  steal  insensibly  through 
unguarded  avenues  into  the  depths  of  the  heart.  It  was 
not  strange,  when  we  consider  his  beautiful  imagination,  his 
gentle  spirit,  his  tenderness  for  suffering  humanity,  the  pu- 
rity of  his  moral  feelings,  and  the  pathos  of  his  eloquence. 
Heavenly  charity  was  a  lavorite  theme  with  him ;  he  dwelt 
on  it  with  delight,  and,  as  ho  thus  expatiated,  awoke  in  lis- 
tening bosoms  sentiments  congenial  with  his  own. 

"That  appeal  for  the  Deaf  and  Dumb  Asylum  in  New 
York  cannot  be  forgotten  by  those  who  listened  to  it,  as 
long  as  memory  can  be  exercised.  It  was  the  zenith  of  his 
power,  his  fame,  his  usefulness.  There,  it  was  fondly  hoped, 
the  star  of  his  destiny  would  long  remain;  but  no,  it  was 
soon — too  soon — to  shine  in  another  sphere,  equally  beyond 
the  reach  of  mortal  influence  and  mortal  admiration.  Too 
soon  !  That  thought  must  be  checked  when  we  consider  the 
wisdom  of  the  infinite  One,  though  we  ask  to  indulge  it  when 
we  look  around  upon  the  broken  hearts  in  this  ruined  world — 
when  we  think  of  the  necessities  of  sinful  men,  and  of  the 
blessedness  of  hearing  the  gospel  thus  preached.  0,  for 
other  such  to  arise,  and  tell  of  Jesus  to  this  sinful  genera- 
tion . 

"  The  literary  taste  of  Summerfield  was  exquisite.  And 
this  ai-ose  as  much  from  the  peculiar  aptitude  of  his  intellec- 
tual constitution  as  from  cultivation.  A  quick  and  accurate 
sense  of  the  beautiful  was  in  him  in  great  perfection — 
whether  it  were  the  beautiful  in  art,  in  nature,  in  mental 
development,  or  in  the  productions  of  genius  and  of  inspira- 


304  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

tion.  Ill  the  latter,  especially,  lie  delighted.  To  drink  of 
that  fount  that  flows  '  fast  by  the  oracle  of  God '  was  his 
joy.  His  taiite  was  formed  on  that  divine  model.  The 
minutest  filaments,  so  to  speak,  of  that  celestial  jiattern 
were  interwoven  with  the  woof  of  his  mind.  It  was  heard 
in  his  conversation — it  is  seen  in  his  writings — it  was  mani- 
fest in  the  pulpit — it  is  apparent  in  all  his  familiar  epistles. 
He  could  scarcely  have  had  a  conception  of  the  corruption 
of  modern  taste.  How  would  his  pure  spirit  have  been 
grieved  at  the  desecration  of  the  temple  of  literature  in  these 
latter  days,  to  see  what  foul  birds  of  prey  flit  across  her 
courts  and  nestle  under  her  very  altars.  Indignant  virtue 
blushes  at  the  boldness  with  which  modern  impostors  in  lit- 
erature intrude  into  her  presence,  and  attempt  to  despoil  her 
sanctity.  They  would  meet  his  withering  rebuke  in  the 
pulpit — '  the  most  effectual  guard,  support,  and  ornament  of 
virtue's  cause.' 

"  Gentle  as  he  was,  he  would  not  spare  the  vices  of  the 
wicked,  nor  touch  lightly  the  crimes  of  those  who  would 
poison  the  wells  of  literature,  and  thus  wilfully  seek  to  pol- 
lute the  moral  nature  of  man — who,  instead  of  attempting 
to  extinguish  the  flame  of  human  passion,  render  it  more 
intense  by  pouring  oil  upon  it.  To  meet  this  great  and 
growinjT  evil  will  require  the  utmost  exertions  of  the  eloquent 
orator,  the  thoughtful  moralist,  the  practised  writer,  the  phil- 
anthropic publisher,  and  the  spiritual  divine.  In  these 
efforts,  too,  they  must  be  aided  by  the  friends  of  morality 
and  virtue.  The  press  that  would  give  a  vigorous  tone  to 
private  morals  and  public  virtue  must  be  sustained.  The 
last  speech  ever  delivered  by  Summerfield  was  on  this  very 
subject.  It  was  at  the  organization  of  the  American  Tract 
Society  in  1825 — it  was  its  first  public  meeting.  He  rose  all 
pale  and  feeble  from  the  exhaustion  produced  by  pulmonary 
disease.  His  heart  was  full — his  intellect  gloAved  with  ex- 
cessive ardor — his  soul  was  all  alive  with  the  mterest  of  the 


IIEMINISCENCES.  305 

occasion — the  laying  the  foundation  of  a  literary  and  re- 
ligious institution  for  the  benefit  of  the  present  generation, 
and  of  posterity.  The  writer  well  remembers  the  sensation 
])roduced  by  that  speech.  Every  feature  and  every  move- 
ment of  his  body  was  instinct  with  life,  like  that  which  ani- 
mated every  faculty  of  his  soul.  He  sketched  a  portraiture 
of  infidelity  as  it  appeared  in  the  keen  wit  of  '  the  brilliant 
Frenchman'  Voltaire,  in  the  vulgar  ribaldry  of  Paine,  and 
the  solemn  amumentation  of  Hume.  He  then  seemed,  as 
with  the  eye  of  a  prophet,  to  behold  the  dawn  oi  a  holy 
literature,  in  the  progress  of  which  the  intellect  of  the  world 
Avould  be  illuminated,  the  four-footed  beasts  and  creeping 
things  of  iulidelity  driven  to  their  dens  of  darkness,  and  the 
power  of  Christianity  triumphant  in  the  earth.  And  this 
enterprise  was  not  to  be  monopolized  by  any  particular 
denomination.  The  transactions  of  that  day  testified  to  the 
fact,  and  the  necessity,  of  union  among  all  Christians  of 
every  name.  By  that  sign  they  would  conquer.  Six  difl'er- 
ent  denominations  joined  hands  that  day.  None  seemed 
more  earnest,  more  ardent,  more  undissembliiigly  glad  than 
the  youthful  Methodist.  The  theme  and  the  scone  were 
worthy  of  the  parting  words  which  fell  from  the  lips  of  one 
who,  from  the  first,  was  a  favorite  with  every  public  assem- 
bly, and  to  the  last,  commanded  that  confidence,  not  to  say 
awakened  that  enthusiasm,  which  gives  its  object  such  great 
influence  over  the  general  mind.  It  was  a  memorable  day 
in  one's  life  to  have  heard  the  dying  tones  of  one  whose 
voice  was  always  music  to  the  ear — the  breathings  of  whose 
spirit  ever  refreshed  the  soul.  He  stood  on  the  verge  of  the 
tomb.  He  seemed  to  feel  his  proximity  to  the  purer  and 
the  better  land — to  realize  the  strength  of  the  tie  that 
bound  him  to  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect  in  heav- 
en— to  be  softened  and  molted,  as  well  by  the  tender  recol- 
lections of  past  experience  with  American  Cliristians,  as  by 
the  sweet  anticipation  of  the  more  complete  and  enrapturing 


306  REV.  JOHN  SUMMERFIELD. 

commnnioii  with  the  gaints  in  glory.  Never  will  that  dear 
youth  reiippear  among  us.  The  beautiful  vision  is  past.  Its 
loveliness  still  lingers  on  the  memory.     We  caHnot  mourn. 

'•  •  Thou  art  gone  to  the  grave,  but  we  will  not  deplore  thee.' 
Thy  spirit  is  with  God,  while  we  are  still  struggling  with 
the  difficulties  of  our  mortal   state."     See  E.ev.  Mr.  Dan- 
forth's  inscription  over  the  tomb  of  Summerfield,  page  270. 

"  Summerfield,"  says  the  same  writer,  "  could  tell  a 
pious  anecdote,  and  with  equal  apparent  ease  and  no  altera- 
tion in  manner,  before  one  person  or  three  thousand,  with 
such  a  grace  and  amiable  dignity,  united  with  appositeness 
and  impressiveness — in  a  word,  with  such  a  manner,  as  was 
the  property  of  no  other  person  I  ever  saw.  He  abounded 
in  anecdotes  at  public  meetings  for  benevolent  purposes.  In 
this,  like  the  religious  part  of  the  nation  f?om  whence  he 
sprung,  he  was  ahead  of  us.  I  have  seen  some  feeble 
attempts  among  our  good  countrymen  to  walk  in  the  same 
track ;  but  though  well  enough,  they  were  poor  indeed  when 
compared  with  the  graceful,  fluent,  and  unhesitating  man- 
ner oltlie  youthful  Summerfield.  He  has  sometimes  been 
facetious  in  a  meeting  of  a  marine  Bible  society,  or  a  mis- 
sionary society,  to  such  a  degree  as  to  make  the  whole 
audience  shake  with  laughter,  while  his  own  lovely  counte- 
nance relaxed  only  into  a  gentle  smile.  But  then,  if  he 
thought  the  humorous  chord  had  been  too  violently  swept 
by  him,  he  would  by  no  very  slow  process  touch  the  pathetic 
one,  and  then  every  smile  would  flee  away,  and  the  tears 
would  begin  to  course  down  not  mei'ely  the  delicate  cheek  of 
female  beauty,  but  the  rough  visage  of  the  hardy  sailor  or 
the  uncouth  laborer.  And  as  he  just  assumed  the  mastery — 
what  power  has  real  eloquence  ! — over  all  that  came  within 
the  limit  of  his  voice,  rousing  or  hushing  such  passions  as 
he  plea.sed,  he  was  careful  that  the  last  passion  excited  should 
be  a  serious  one,  and  endeavored  in  general  to  leave  a  solemn 
impression  at  the  conclusion."      ' 


REMINISCENCES.  307 

FRO:\I  THE  REV.  WILLIAM  M.  WILLETT. 

"As  I  mourui'iilly  cast  my  eye  over  dates,  notes,  and  let- 
ters couuected  with  the  memory  of  Summerfield,  I  find  a 
long  lapse  of  sixteen  years  to  have  intervened  since  he  first 
appeared  to  me,  a  mere  youtli,  as  a  legate  from  the  skies. 
Never  shall  I  ibrget  the  Sabbath  morning  when  I  first  saw 
him  stand  np  in  the  holy  place  as  an  ambassador  for  Christ. 
His  address  the  preceding  week  at  the  anniversary  of  the 
American  Bible  Society,  borne  on  a  thousand  tongues,  had 
spread  the  rumor  of  his  unrivalled  eloquence  through  the 
city.  Great  was  the  eagerness  to  hear  him.  Along  with 
the  crowd  I  entered  the  Methodist  church  in  Duane-street. 
The  church  was  already  nearly  filled,  though  the  hour  lor 
preaching  had  not  arrived.  Expectation  was  depicted  in 
every  countenance,  and  frequently  was  the  eye  directed  to 
the  door  v/ith  anxious  curiosily.  At  length  he  entered.  My 
eye  followed  him  intently  along  the  aisle.  He  walked  with 
a  slow,  graceful  step,  his  eye  fixed  upward.  Ab,--orbed  in 
the  emotions  of  his  own  heart,  the  congregation  did  not 
appear  in  the  slightest  degree  to  attract  his  attention.  He 
appeared,  intellectually  and  spiritually,  to  soar  like  the 
eagle  far  aloft  above  all  low  and  common  thoughts.  'He 
preached  not  himself,  but  Jesus  Christ  and  him  crucified.' 
Full  of  the  love  of  Christ — gazing  on  his  glory — self  was 
forgotten  ;  human  applause,  though  not  to  be  undervalued, 
was  a  bubble. 

"In  the  pulpit,  before  he  commenced,  his  manner  was 
reverent,  meek,  unaffected.  After  a  brief  silent  prayer,  he 
rose.  He  read  one  of  the  psalms,  then  a  hymn  with  un- 
common beauty  and  force.  The  tones  of  his  voice  were 
low  and  remarkably  sweet,  but  the  enunciation  was  so  clear 
and  distinct  as  to  fall  fully  upon  the  ear  of  the  most  distant 
hearer.  The  prayer  which  followed  was  distinguished  for 
simplicity,  fervor,  beauty,  pathos.  The  text — who  that  lis- 
tened to  this  discourse  can  ever  forget  it? — was  Heb.  12:1, 


308  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

2:  'Wherefore,  seeing  we  also  are  compassed  about  with  so 
great  a  cloud  of  witnesses,  let  us  lay  aside  every  weight,  and 
the  sill  which  doth  so  easily  beset  us,  and  let  us  run  with 
patience  the  race  that  is  set  before  us,  looking  unto  Jesus, 
the  author  and  finisher  of  our  faith  ;  who,  for  the  joy  that 
was  set  before  him,  endured  the  cross,  despising  the  shame, 
and  is  set  down  at  the  right  hand  of  the  throne  of  God.' 
It  is  impossible  ior  me  to  describe  the  sermon.  I  felt  the 
power  of  an  impassioned,  heavenly  oratory,  but  I  was  not 
prepared  to  analyze  it.  This  belonged  to  a  cooler  head  and 
a  heart  less  absorbed  than  mine  was  at  the  time. 

■'  I  need  not  say  that  the  favorable  impression  produced 
by  his  oratory  was  universal.  From  this  morning  crowds 
lilled  every  church  in  which  he  preached  ;  and  though  he 
did  not  always  soar  with  an  equal  flight — though  his  wing 
would  now  and  then  droop — yet,  upon  the  whole,  who  that 
heard  him  is  not  ready  with  a  sigh  to  say,  'We  ne'er  shall 
look  upon  his  like  again.' 

"i  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  accompanying  Mr.  Summer- 
field  on  his  first  visit  to  Trenton,  N.  J.  His  original  inten- 
tion was  to  proceed  as  far  as  Philadelphia,  but  his  health 
obliged  him  to  return  direct  from  Trenton  to  New  York. 
On  the  steamboat  between  New  York  and  Brunswick,  sur- 
rounded by  a  few  friends,  his  conversation  was  very  attrac- 
tive and  interesting.  He  abounded  with  anecdote,  and  pos- 
sessed a  happy  art  of  telling  a  story.  But  though  exceed- 
ingly entertaining  as  a  companion,  yet  he  never,  not  in  a 
solitary  instance,  degenerated  into  levity.  His  fund  of  an- 
ecdote and  narrative  were  happily  rendered  subsei-vieiit  to 
the  great  interest  of  religion.  Though  you  might  listen  to 
him  for  hours  with  unflagging  attention,  yet  at  the  close 
you  felt  no  disposition  to  that  sort  of  mirth  which  is  like  the 
'crackling  of  thorns  under  a  pot.'  The  fancy  might  be  en- 
tertained, the  curiosity  excited,  a  chastened  cheerfulness  might 
prevail ;  but  with  all,  the  heart  was  purified  and  refreshed. 


REMINISCENCES.  300 

"We  spent  the  uight  at  Brunswick.  The  next  morning, 
having  a  htlle  leisure  before  the  stage  left,  he  visited  several 
ilimilies,  praying  in  each,  and  leaving  behind  the  unction  of 
a  holy  conversation.  To  pray  in  the  families  he  visited  was 
his  invariable  rule.     He  never  overlooked  little  children. 

"On  our  way  from  Brunswick  to  Trenton  in  the  stage, 
Mr.  Summerfield  occupied  with  two  others  the  middle  seat. 
His  pale,  youthful  countenance,  with  his  general  appearance, 
led  an  elderly,  respectable  gentleman,  who  occupied  the  front 
seat,  to  take  him  for  a  student  of  Princeton  college.  Under 
this  impression,  he  requested  him,  rather  'peremiitorily,  how- 
ever, to  change  seats.  Though  struck  with  surprise,  rather 
perhaps  at  the  matwer  in  which  the  request  was  made, 
than  at  the  request  itself,  after  a  momentary  hesitation, 
during  which  his  pale  check  was  tinged  with  a  momentary 
flush,  he  changed  seats  without  a  word.  Of  all  those  in  the 
stage,  not  one,  on  the  ground  of  health,  which  was  the  rea- 
son assigned  aftenvards  for  making  the  request,  required 
accommodation  as  much  as  Mr.  Summerfield.  As  it  was, 
the  change  of  seat  afi'ected  him  considerably.  I  am  happy 
to  add,  however,  that  the  gentleman  having  arrived  in  Tren- 
ton and  discovered  his  mistake,  took  the  earliest  opportunity 
to  apologize  to  Mr.  Summerfield,  and  by  the  greatest  kind- 
ness endeavored  to  remove  any  unpleasant  feelings  which 
he  might  inadvertently  have  occasioned.  The  meek  spirit 
of  his  Master,  with  which  Mr.  Summerfield  was  imbued,  led 
him  at  once  to  forget  the  occurrence,  and  to  cherish  the  most 
sincere  gratitude  for  all  the  after-kindness  of  this  gentleman^ 
with  whom  an  interesting  correspondence  was  kept  up. 

,"  We  reached  Trenton  rather  late  on  Saturday  afternoon. 
Greatly  fatigued  with  his  ride  he  retired  early  to  rest.  He 
however  slept  but  little,  and  rose  with  the  dawn  next  morn- 
ing. He  had  not  taken  tea  the  previous  evening,  and  he 
scarcely  tasted  any  breakfast  this  Sabbath  morning.  His 
mind  was  evidently  laboring  under  a  heavy  burden — the 


310  REY.  JOHN  SUMMERFIELD. 

message  he  Avas  about  to  deliver.  He  scareely  spoke  at  the 
table.  The  rest  of  his  time,  till  sei'vice  began,  was  spent  in 
his  room  in  prayer  and  meditation.  He  preached  his  first 
sermon  in  Trenton  in  the  Methodist  church,  which  was 
small  and  awkwardly  constructed.  I  do  not  think  this 
morning  he  preached  with  his  usual  liberty.  Having  been 
invited  to  occupy  the  Presbyterian  church,  he  preached  suc- 
cessively Monday  and  Tuesday  evenings  to  very  large  and 
exceedingly  interested  audiences. 

"The  greater  part  of  Monday  and  Tuesday  was  occu- 
pied by  numerous  calls.  His  society  was  eagerly  courted, 
not  simply  on  account  of  his  eloquence  as  an  orator,  but 
from  the  charm  his  conversational  powers  threw  around  the 
social  circle.  From  Trenton  he  returned  to  New  York  to 
be  laid  immediately  on  a  sick-bed. 

"I  heard  the  first  sermon  he  delivered  after  his  recoveiy 
from  this  sickness.  It  was  preached  in  John-street  church, 
Sabbath  morning,  Sept.  30,  1821.  The  text  on  this  occa- 
sion was  Psalm  116  :  12,  13,  14  :  'What  shall  I  render  unto 
the  Lord  for  all  his  benefits  towards  me  ?  I  Avill  take  the 
cup  of  salvation  and  call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord.  I 
will  pay  my  vows  unto  the  Lord  note,  in  the  presence  of  all 
his  people.'  The  church  was  crowded  to  excess.  The 
walls  in  the  gallery  were  darkened  with  jjeople  pressed  high 
up  against  them.  Great  anxiety  was  expressed  by  the  con- 
gregation lest  they  should  be  disappointed  ;  and  this  evidently 
increased  as  the  hour-hand  of  the  clock  approached  nearer 
and  nearer  the  time  to  begin.  But  ^;;r67.se///  at  the  hour, 
he  entered,  his  countenance,  if  possible,  paler  and  less  earth- 
like than  usual.  An  increased  interest  was  thrown  about  him 
this  morning  by  his  recent  recovery  from  a  sickness  which  it 
was  generally  feared  would  have  terminated  his  short  but  use- 
ful and  brilliant  career.  His  own  heart  overflowed  with  grat- 
itude to  God;  his  countenance  sparkled  with  a  holy  joy.  The 
sermon,  as  the  text  indicates,  was  adapted  to  the  occasion." 


REMINISCENCES.  oil 

III  the  spring  of  1822,  Mr.  Sunimerfield  niude  his  first 
visit  to  Baltimore,  to  speak  at  a  missionary  meeting  ;  as  much 
•was  expected  from  him,  the  church  was  crowSbd  to  excess. 
The  Rev.  John  (late  Bishop)  Emory  concluded  a  most  inter- 
esting speech  by  introducing  Mr.  Summerfield  somewhat  as 
follows  :  "  I  will  not  detain  you  longer ;  I  know  the  anxiety 
of  the  audience  to  enjoy  the  rich  feast  that  is  to  follow,  and 
I  wish  to  enjoy  it  with  them  :  we  have  reserved  the  best 
wine  to  the  last." 

The  youthful  Summerfield,  perfectly  cool  and  collected, 
arose  ;  he  cast  his  eyes  over  that  immense  congregation,  and 
then  exclaimed,  "  What  means  this  flourish  of  trumpets  ? 
Who  is  this  John  Summerfield  whose  name  is  bandied  through 
the  land  ?  A  lad,  a  mere  lad  of  yesterday,  with  his  '  five  bar- 
ley loaves  and  two  small  fishes  ;  and  what  are  they  among 
so  many  ?'  But  the  gentleman  says  he  has  reserved  the 
best  wine  till  the  last — this  is  inverting  the  order  of  the 
feast :  '  Every  man  at  the  beginning  doth  set  forth  good  wine, 
and  when  men  have  well  drank,  then  that  which  is  worse' — 
but  I  have  not  the  worse  wine  to  ofler  you,  mine  is  mere 
water  ;  but  if  the  Master  of  the  feast  should  deign  to  touch 
the  water  and  turn  it  to  wine,  it  may  be  the  very  best  wine ; 
but  recollect,  my  friends,  the  excellency  would  not  be  of  man, 
but  of  God."  Mr.  Summerfield  then  proceeded,  says  Dr. 
Bond,  in  his  usual  inimitable  manner. 

Shortly  after  the  meeting  above  referred  to.  Bishop  Em- 
ory wrote  to  a  friend  as  follows  : 

">I  heard  brother  Summerfield  preach  last  night  at  Eu- 
taw,  to  one  of  the  most  crammed  congregations  I  ever  saw. 
The  clergy  generally,  1  believe,  were  present,  and,  as  far  as 
I  have  heard,  all  were  greatly  pleased.  Dr.  Glendy,  to 
Avhom  I  was  introduced,  said  to  me,  '  Well,  wo  have  had  a 
gospel  feast,  and  in  the  first  style  of  elegance.'  I  have  just 
come  from  dining  at  the  Rev.  Mr.  Nevins'  in  company  Avith 


312  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

ten  clergymen,  Methodists  and  others,  including  Mr.  Sum- 
merfield.  Poor  fellow,  he  is  caressed  and  run  after,  almost 
beyond  meaftire ;  I  wish  he  may  have  grace  to  bear  it.  I 
think  him  an  amiable  young  man,  and  admire  him  far  above 
any  of  his  age  I  have  ever  heard.  He  has  promised  to  go  with 
me  to  Annapolis  on  Friday  to  sj^end  the  Sabbath  there."  This 
Mr.  Summerlield  accordingly  did,  and  thus  speaks  of  his  visit 
in  a  letter  written  to  Mr.  Emory  some  time  afterwards : 

"I  bid  you  farewell  with  a  grateful  remembrance  of  the 
kindness  you  showed  me  at  Annapolis,  and  the  solicitude  you 
manifested  to  administer  to  my  many  wants,  and  add  to  my 
abundant  comforts.  This  is  no  paradox  to  you  ;  while  my 
body  was  weak,  my  spirit  was  refreshed  day  by  day,  and  as 
iron  sharpeneth  iron,  so  did  the  face  of  my  friend — my  first 
friend  in  tliis  strange  land — refresh  my  heart." 

Allusion  is  here  made  to  the  flict,  that  on  Mr.  Summer- 
field's  arrival  in  this  country,  Mr.  Emory,  having  previously 
become  acquainted  with  him  in  England,  was  enabled  to 
relieve  him  from  a  very  embarrassing  situation  in  which  he 
was  placed  lor  want  of  the  usual  testimonials  of  his  minis- 
terial standing  at  home,  Avhich  he  had  not  brought  with 
him,  because  he  did  not  expect  to  remain  in  this  country. 

Life  of  Emory,  page  138 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  SUMMERFIELD,  BY  THE   REV.  DR.  GEORGE 
W.  BETHUXE. 

"  The  portrait  of  Summerfield,*  though  much  too  health- 
ful, is  perhaps  the  best  likeness  imitative  skill  could  give  of 
that  most  apostolical  young  man.  It  is  impossible  to  im- 
press upon  canvas  or  steel  the  holy  sweetness  which  they 
who  had  the  privilege  of  knowing  him,  remember  irradiating 
his  pale,  worn  features,  when  he  talked  of  the  love  of  Jesus 
from  the  pulpit,  on  the  platform,  or  by  the  fii'cside.  Much 
*  See  Frontispiece. 


EEMIXISCENCES.  313 

less  can  the  cold  pen  describe  the  charm  of  his  eloquence,  so 
simple  that  you  could  discover  iu  it  no  rhetorical  art,  or  of 
his  manner,  so  mild,  and  from  bodily  weakness  often  so  feeble, 
that  the  entranced  hearer  knew  not  how  he  was  so  deeply 
moved,  or  so  irresistibly  carried  away.  The  secret  of  his 
power  was  undoubtedly  his  sincerity,  his  earnest  delight  in 
the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  and  his  zeal  to  win  souls  from 
eternal  death  for  his  Master's  glory,  and  also,  the  peculiar 
efficacy  with  which  the  Holy  Spirit,  who  inspired  that  truth 
he  loved  to  preach  in  such  pureness,  unfeignedness,  and  char- 
ity, accompanied  the  labors  of  one  so  devoted  to  his  work, 
whose  course  on  earth  was  to  be  so  brief 

"  His  discipline,  by  the  providence  of  God,  was  severe. 
Like  the  apostle  Paul,  '  he  had  a  thorn  in  the  flesh,'  a  pain- 
ful, and  as  he  had  reason  to  believe,  an  incurable  disease. 
He  knew  that  his  life  could  not  be  long.  With  eternity  ever 
before  him,  '  he  endured  as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible.'  To 
him,  as  he  '  died  daily,'  the  worlds  applause  and  the  pleas- 
ures of  this  life  were  little  worth.  He  was  continually  look- 
ing at  '  the  things  which  are  not  seen  and  eternal.'  He  felt 
that  there  was  nothing  left  for  him,  but  to  crowd  into  his  few 
remaining  days  as  much  usefulness  as  was  possible  through 
the  permission  of  God  upon  whom  he  relied.  The  usefuhiops 
he  desired  was  the  best  usefulness,  the  edification  of  saints 
and  the  conversion  of  sinners.  The  means  he  employed 
were  the  very  best  means,  the  pure  word  of  the  gospel,  '  the 
wisdom  of  God,  and  the  power  of  God.' 

"  It  is  said,  '  he  was  a  man  oi prayer  ;'  but  he  was  in  no 
less  eminent  degree  a  man  of  the  Bihle.  He  appeared  to 
lose  himself  entirely  in  the  preacher.  He  was  free  from  what 
is  frequently  little  better  than  tricky  conceit,  '  textual'  divis- 
ions. He  struck  immediately  at  the  main  thought.  He 
gathered  his  argument  from  the  connection,  or  that  of  par- 
allel passages.  It  was  his  text  preaching,  rather  than  him- 
self.    His  language  was  very  scriptural,  his  defmitious  and 

SummerfitM.  14 


314  REV.  JuIiX  SUMMERFIELD. 

his  illustrations  Averc,  with  scarce  an  exception,  from  the 
Bible.  He  may  not  have  been  a  classical  scholar  iii  the 
stronpfcr  sense  ol'  the  term,  though  it  was  not  ditficult  to  de- 
tect a  familiarity  with  good  authors,  and  an  occasional  refer- 
ence to  their  elegance  in  his  style,  but  he  hallowed  all  with 
that  '  unction  from  the  Holy  One,'  which  can  only  be  receiv- 
ed on  our  knees  before  '  the  living  oracles.'  AYith  little  of 
their  quaintness,  he  had  all  the  naturalness — the  natural- 
ness of  a  better  nature — that  characterizes  the  older  English 
divines.  Every  sentence  of  his  that  I  remember,  is  pure 
Saxon,  the  English  of  our  beloved  English  Bible.  He  turned 
his  sweetest  passages,  or  gave  them  epigrammatic  point,  by 
a  scriptural  phrase  at  their  close.  The  flock  of  Christ,  un- 
der the  guidance  of  the  stripling  shepherd,  were  led  in  the 
green  pastures  and  beside  the  still  waters  wliere  his  own  soul 
had  been  fed.  They  felt  safe  under  his  in.structions,  for  tliey 
saw  the  landmarks  which  God  has  set.  His  metaphysics 
were  not  labored  and  abstruse,  for  he  found  his  philosophy 
sitting  at  the  feet  of  Him  who  preached  his  gospel  to  the  poor. 
"  Summerfield  was  too  honest  to  check  the  exclamations 
that  rose  flowing  from  his  heart  to  his  lips,  at  the  gracious 
wonders  of  divine  truth.  Like  the  ardent  Paul,  the  name  of 
Jesus,  a  sight  of  the  cross,  a  glimpse  of  the  glory  that  shall 
be  revealed,  made  him  cry  out  in  subdued  and  holy  ecstasy. 
Or,  as  the  thought  of  souls  perishing  in  sin  pressed  upon  his 
soul,  he  would  break  his  order  w^ith  an  earnest  ejaculation. 
'  Would  to  God  I'  '  0  that  God  !'  '  God  grant  I'  were  frequent 
from  his  lips,  not  carelessly,  but  with  an  emphasis  of  devo- 
tion none  could  doubt.  Indeed,  he  not  only  prayed  before 
he  preached  and  after  he  preached — for  he  went  to  the  pul- 
pit from  his  knees,  and  to  his  knees  from  his  pulpit — but  lie 
seemed  to  be  praying  while  he  preached.  Prayer  was  so 
much  his  breath,  that  as  Gregory  Nazianzen  says  of  the 
true  Christian,  the  breathing  went  on  whatever  he  was  do- 
ing, not  hindering  him,  but  necessary  to  him.     The  hearer 


REMINISCENCES.  31-0 

felt  that  it  was  the  preacher's  heart,  as  well  as  his  mind  and 
voice,  that  was  talking  to  him  ;  and  that  that  heart  was  in- 
voking blessings  for,,  while  it  pleaded  with,  sinners  and  saints. 

"  He  had  also  an  easy  wit,  which  upon  fitting  occasions 
played  gracefully,  but  never  sarcastically.  He  was  too  kind- 
hearted  to  be  sarcastic,  too  devout  to  be  jocose. 

"  The  first  time  that  I  heard  him — and  perhaps  the  sec- 
ond time  he  spoke  here  in  public — was  on  the  anniversary 
of  the  American  Bible 'Society,  then  an  infant  institution.  I 
recollect  the  venerable  president,  Elias  Boudinot,  leaving  the 
chair  to  seek  some  repose  from  the  excitement  too  severe  for 
his  aged  frame.  The  speaker  who  preceded  Summerfield, 
was  a  divine  then  and  long  afterward  highly  esteemed  and 
admired  for  his  strong  sense,  his  elaborate  finish,  and  his 
Ciceronian  dignity.  His  address  was  truly  a  masterpiece, 
prolc)und  in  argument,  accurate  in  logical  analysis,  and  very 
impressive  in  its  conclusions.  A  clerical  gentleman — since 
gone  to  his  rest — who  was  kind  enough  to  take  an  interest 
in  a  lad  like  myself,  was  frequent  in  his  expressions  of  delight 
and  admiration — calling  my  attention  to  his  gesture,  his  pithy 
sentences,  and  his  elegant  elucidation.  The  orator  closed 
amidst  murmurs  of  applause,  and  the  chair  aimounced  '  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Sunnnerfield  from  England.'  '  AVhat  presump- 
tion I'  said  my  clerical  neighbor ;  '  a  boy  like  that  to  be  set 
up  after  a  giant  I'  But  the  stripling  came  in  the  name  of 
the  God  of  Israel,  armed  with  '  a  few  smooth  stones  from  the 
brook'  that  Hows  '  close  by  the  oracles  of  God.'  His  motion 
was  one  of  thanks  to  the  olficers  of  the  Society  for  their  labors 
during  the  year,  and  of  course  he  had  to  allude  to  the  Pres- 
ideul,  tlien  reposing  in  another  part  of  the  house  ;  and  thus 
he  did  il  : 

"  '  ^Ylleu  I  saw  that  venerable  man,  too  aged  to  warrant 
the  hope  of  being  with  you  at  another  anniversary,  lie  re- 
tninded  mc  of  Jacob  leaning  ujwn  (he  to})  of  his  siaf,  bless- 
ing Jiis  children  before  lie  departed.' 


31G  ilEV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELI). 

"He  then  passed  on  to  encourage  the  society  by  tlie  ex- 
ample of  the  British  institution.  '  "When  we  first  launched 
our  untried  vessel  upon  the  deep,  the  storms  of  opposition 
roared,  and  the  waves  dashed  angrily  around  us,  and  we  had 
hard  work  to  keep  her  head  to  the  wind.  We  were  faint 
with  rowing,  and  our  strength  would  soon  have  been  gone, 
but  we  cried,  '  Lord,  save  us,  or  we  perish.'  When  a  light 
ahone  vpon  the  ivatcrs,  and  ire  sair  a  form  loalking  upon 
the  troubled  sea,  like  unto  that  of  the  So)i  of  God,  and  he 
drew  near  the  ship,  and  we  knew  t/iat  it  teas  Jesus  ;  and 
he  stepped  upon  the  deck,  and  laid  his  hand  on  the  helm, 
and  he  said  unto  the  ivinds  and  the  waves,  '  Peace,  be  still;' 
and  there  teas  a  great  calm.  Let  not  the  friends  of  tlie 
Bible  fear,  God  is  in  the  midst  of  us.  God  shall  help  us, 
and  that  right  early.'  In  such  a  strain  he  went  on  to  the 
close.  'Wonderful,  wonderful!'  said  my  neighbor  the  critic, 
'he  talks  like  an  angel  from  heaven.' 

"  The  next  time  that  I  heard  him,  was  in  the  John-street 
church.  The  only  method  by  which  I  could  see  him,  from 
among  the  taller  crowd  who  filled  evei-y  accessible  space, 
was  by  climbing  like  Zacchcus,  not  a  tree,  but  a  huge  church 
stove  that  stood  in  the  uorlli-eastern  corner.  I  can  give 
you  no  part  of  the  sermon,  but  1  well  remember  a  fact  that 
will  show  the  intense  power  he  had  of  riveting  the  atten- 
tion. We  had  all  been  crowded  in  the  cliuich  at  least  an 
hour  and  a  half  before  the  time  of  service,  and  among  those 
in  the  front  of  the  gallery  ojiposite  to  me,  was  a  group  of  the 
most  fashionable  women  then  in  New  York  ;  one  of  whom 
was  remarkable  for  her  beauty,  but  still  more  famous  for 
her  wit,  that  defied  all  restraint  of  time,  place,  or  person. 
Before  the  service  commenced,  she  was  endeavoring  to  change 
her  very  uneasy  position  for  one  more  comfortable,  but  in 
vain.  French  hats  and  Methodist  bonnets  were  jammed 
closely  in  almost  inextricable  confusion.  Miss  F 's  pos- 
ture was  still  most  painful ;   but  the  moment  Summeriield 


REMINISCENCES.  317 

began  to  preach,  her  eyes  were  riveted  upon  him,  and  with 
her  lips  slightly  opened,  and  at  times  twitching  convulsively, 
she  listened  without  moving  until  he  ceased,  when  she 
lieaved  a  deep  sigh,  as  if  only  then  permitted  to  breathe. 
What  effect,  other  than  this,  the  preaching  had  upon  her, 
it  is  impossible  to  say,  but  wherever  Summerfield  was  to 
speak,  she  was  to  be  found.  May  we  not  hope — for  she  has 
long  since  gone  to  her  account — that  some  seeds  were  sown 
in  her  heart  which  are  now  bearing  fruit  in  heaven  ? 

"  Preaching  one  morning  in  the  Allen-street  Methodist 
church,  upon  Romans  8  :  38,  39,  he  wished  to  define  and 
illustrate  Christian  confidence;  he  did  it  in  this  way  :  'You 
remember  Peter,  when  he  was  imprisoned,  chained  between 
two  soldiers.  The  church  was  praying  in  tears,  wondering 
what  would  become  of  them  if  their  strong  champion  was 
taken  from  them.  The  enemies  of  God  on  earth,  and  the 
devils  in  hell,  were  rejoicing  that  they  had  Peter  in  their 
power.  The  angels  in  heaven,  ever  intent  upon  the  mys- 
teries of  Providence  in  redemption,  were  sending  down  to  see 
what  the  Lord  would  do  with  Peter.  AVhen  heaven  and 
earth  and  hell  were  thinking  of  Peter,  what  were  Peter's 
thoughts  ?     ^A'hat  was  Peter  doing  ?      Peter  icas  asleep.' 

"  The  sermon  for  the  deaf  and  dumb,  as  printed,  is  noth- 
ing like  what  it  was  when  delivered,  either  in  thought  or 
language.  Summerfield  himself  wrote  it,  but  after  it  was 
preached.  He  could  not  catch  his  own  'winged  words.' 
The  pen  trammelled  him.  One  striking  sentence,  which 
thrilled  through  us  all,  is  left  out  altogether.  '  Turn  away 
from  these  children  of  allliction,'  said  he,  '  and  when  the 
Lord  says,  "  Inasmuch  as  you  did  it  not  unto  the  least  of 
these,  you  did  it  not  unto  me,"  ijoic  too  may  be  dumb,  speech- 
less ill  shame.' 

"''  He  evidently  took  his  last  fatal  cold  at  the  laying  of 
the  corner-stone  of  the  Tract  Society  House,  in  Nassau- 
street,  from  standing  on  the  damp  earth  which  had  been 


318  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

thrown  up  to  make  room  for  the  foundation.  But  that 
morning,  at  the  meeting  in  the  City  Hotel,  he  had  made 
one  of  his  most  dehghtiul  speeches.  '  Thomas  Paine,'  said 
he,  '  boasted  that  he  woukl  root  up  every  tree  in  paradise. 
Would  to  God  that  he  had  laid  hold  of  the  tree  of  life.' 

"  Such  are  a  few  instances  of  his  eloquence.  It  was 
peculiar  to  himself.  Sweet  as  was  his  voice  to  us  then,  it 
is  sweeter  now.  May  we  all  hear  it  in  heaven.  'Though 
dead,  he  yet  speaketh'  in  many  hearts.  There  is  one  heart 
that  can  never  forget  him — the  heart  of  the  writer. 

"  Philadelphia,  September,  1845." 


FROM  AN  ARTICLE    BY  THE   REV.  JAMES  W.   ALEXANDER,  D.  D., 
PRINCETON,  N.  J. 

"  It  was,  I  think,  in  the  spring  of  1S21,  that  I  first  saw 
Mr.  Summerfield.  Having  undertaken  a  pedestrian  excur- 
sion in  the  state  of  New  York,  I  happened  to  be  at  Troy 
during  the  meeting  of  a  conference,  and  there  heard  him 
preach  before  a  large  assembly,  which  included  a  great  num- 
ber of  preachers.  It  was  before  disease  had  marred  his 
youthful  beauty.  There  was  an  infantine  freshness  and  rud- 
diness in  his  cheek,  and  an  inexpressible  brilliancy  in  his  ten- 
der and  yet  laughing  eye.  His  voice  was  music  itself  Every 
things  in  his  manner  was  instinct  with  exuberant  vigor. 

"  His  text  was  1  Cor.  11:1:  'Be  ye  followers  of  me, 
even  as  I  also  am  of  Christ.'  He  held  forth  Paul's  imitation 
of  Christ  as  the  model  for  the  Christian  minister.  After  the 
lapse  of  twenty-four  years,  it  is  not  wonderful  that  my  recol- 
lections of  the  discourse  should  be  somewhat  faint ;  yet  some 
things  thei'e  were  which  made  an  indelible  impression. 
Eloquent  as  he  was  in  every  part  of  his  masterly  perform- 
ance, I  distinctly  remember  that  no  single  portion  of  it  so 
moved  and  melted  the  great  assembly,  even  to  tears,  as  his 
simple  rehearsal  of  the  apostle's  sulierings,  in  his  own  words, 


REMINISCENCES.  319 

'  111  Stripes,  in  iiuprisonmeiils,'  etc.  2  Cor.  G  :  1-11.  Never 
have  I  heard  a  passage  of  Scripture  recited  with  such  pathos. 
He  introduced  a  beautiful  quotation  from  the  dyinj^  expres- 
sions of  Mehincthon,  in  aUusion  to  a  shipwreck  ;  but  I  can- 
not now  venture  to  reproduce  it.  In  turning  to  the  audience 
at  hirge.  near  his  peroration,  lie  said,  '  But,  brethren,  you 
should  all  be  preachers ;  not  pulpit-preachers,  it  may  be,  but 
street-preachers  and  parlor-preachers.'  And  then  in  refer- 
ence to  some  who  dread  the  undue  multiplication  of  preach- 
ers, and  who  are  jealous  for  the  dignity  of  the  regular  min- 
istry, he  cited,  with  a  very  signincant  archness,  the  reply  of 
Moses  when  Joshua  complained  that  Eldad  and  Medad 
were  prophesying:  'And  Moses  said  unto  him,  Enviest  thou 
for  mji  sake  ?  would  God  that  all  the  Loi-d's  people  were 
prophets,  and  that  the  Lord  would  put  his  Spirit  upon  them.' 
Num.  11  :29. 

"  In  this,  as  in  all  Mr.  Summerfield's  performances, 
nothing  was  more  remarkable  than  the  total  forgetfulness  of 
self.  All  was  childlike  simplicity  and  nature,  yet  fervid  and 
pathetic,  to  a  degree  which  cannot  be  communicated  to 
those  who  never  heard  him.  Many  orators  have  I  heard, 
but  never  any  one  whose  elocution  and  manner  were  so  cap- 
tivating and  persuasive.  The  unction  and  confidence  of  his 
prayers  were  also  strikingly  great,  and  the  manner  in  which 
he  repeated  the  Lord's  prayer  transcended  all  the  tricks  of 
elocutionists  and  actors. 

"  Some  time  after  this  I  again  heard  him,  when  he  vis- 
ited Princeton,  N.  J.  The  discourse  which,  at  that  time, 
he  preached  in  the  Presbyterian  church,  is  the  same  of  which 
the  outline  is  preserved  in  Dr.  Bond's  Collection,  No.  79, 
entitled  '  A  Friend  at  Court.'  The  text  was  Heb.  4:14: 
'  Seeing  then  that  we  have  a  great  High-priest,  that  is  passed 
into  the  heavens,  Jesus  the  Son  of  God,  let  us  hold  fast  our 
profession.'  But  that  sketch,  hoAvever  interesting  in  itself, 
can  convey  no  idea  of  the  fulness,  the  rapidity,  or  the  glow- 


320  REV.  JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

ing  amplification  of  the  discourse.  In  this,  as  in  all  his 
sermons,  he  was  remarkable  for  the  quick  succession  of  new 
thoughts.  No  man  better  observed  the  caution,  Le  secret 
cTennuycr  est  celui  de  tout  dire.  Summerficld  did  not  say 
every  thing,  and  he  did  not  weary.  Not  only  did  he  not 
dwell  very  long  on  any  point,  but,  after  presenting  it  most 
vividly,  he  immediately  and  most  adroitly  glided  to  another, 
keeping  up  a  sparkling  current  of  p«rpetual  change.  The 
discourse  comprised  a  brief,  but  able  vindication  of  the  divin- 
itj'  of  our  Lord.  One  of  his  illustrations,  in  which  he  repre- 
sented an  execution,  and  the  crowd  opening  to  a  horseman 
bearing  a  reprieve,  was  graphic,  and  never  to  be  forgotten. 

"  It  was  my  happiness  to  hear  Mr.  Summerfield,  on  a 
second  visit  to  Princeton,  in  the  summer  of  1824.  Alas,  he 
was  at  this  time  enfeebled  by  disease,  and  no  longer  bloom- 
ing in  the  vigor  of  his  first  appearance  in  America.  His 
visage  was  pallid,  and  his  voice  was  much  injured.  Yet  he 
preached  Avith  uncommon  power,  and  with  a  tenderness  and 
awe  which  abundantly  made  up  for  any  lack  of  vivacity. 
His  subject  was  '  Isaiah's  vision,'  Isaiah  6  :  1-8.  See  Dr. 
Bond's  Collection,  No.  23,  p.  IGo.  He  rose  above  himself, 
and  seemed  to  see  heaven  opened,  as  with  a  seraphic  glow 
he  caught  the  adoring  song,  '  Holy,  holy,  holy,  is  the  Lord 
of  hosts.'  "Well  do  I  remember,  after  so  many  years,  the 
delightful  transition,  when,  from  depicting  the  awful  glories 
of  God's  unapproachable  majesty,  in  the  temple  '  filled  with 
smoke,'  he  passed  to  the  '  Lamb  in  the  midst  of  the  throne,' 
as  the  reconciling  sacrifice. 

"  On  the  day  following  I  was  admitted,  by  what-we  call 
a  mere  casualty,  to  some  personal  acquaintance  with  Mr. 
Summerfield.  He  was  about  to  be  admitted,  as  an  honorary 
member,  to  one  of  the  literary  societies  of  the  college  of  New 
Jersey.  While  he  was  waiting  to  be  introduced,  he  was 
brought  by  his  attendant  to  the  room  which  I  occupied  in 
Nassau  Hall.     No  one  who  ever  knew  him  needs  to  be  re- 


REMINISCENCES.  321 

luiuded  of  the  suavity  and  ease  of  his  manner,  even  to  the 
young.  It  was  an  interview  which,  though  brief,  left  deep 
traces  on  my  memory.  He  seized  the  moment  to  give  me 
some  very  seasonable  counsels.  Among  other  subjects  he 
touched  upon  the  necessity  of  divine  illumination,  in  order 
to  the  understanding  of  the  Scriptures,  and  its  superiority 
to  all  the  aids  of  human  learning.  In  this  connection  he 
related  that  Dr.  Doddridge,  when  composing  his  celebrated 
Exposition,  was  accustomed,  after  laboring  upon  a  difficult 
passage,  to  carry  it  to  a  poor  and  uneducated  member  of  his 
church,  whom  he  believed  to  be  taught  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  in 
order  to  get  his  opinion  upon  the  passage  in  question.  Speak- 
ing also  of  stated  times  for  prayer,  he  said,  '  It  is  good  to  have 
a  fixed  time,  and  a  fixed  place  for  devotion.  By  the  law  of 
association,  these  will  recall  holy  thoughts  to  the  mind.' 

"  Some  months  after  this  I  was  favored  with  two  letters 
from  Mr.  Summerfield."  See  pages  247,  etc.  "  They  need 
no  comment.  But  I  may  be  allowed  to  add,  that  after  years 
of  public  labor,  I  recollect  no  counsels  on  the  subject  of 
preaching  to  which  I  attach  more  value." 


The  two  following  extracts  are  given  as  a  sample  of 
letters  of  the  same  character  mIucIi  Mr.  Summerfield  very 
frequently  received  during  his  brief  ministerial  career. 

FROM  A  YOUXG   GENTLEMAN,  MAY  1.3,  1823,  THEN  A  STUDENT  AT 
LAW,  NOW  A  MINISTER  OF  CHRIST. 

*'  I  sensibly  feel,  that  in  the  hands  of  God,  you  were  the 
one  who  instructed  me  in  the  very  first  principles  of  relig- 
ion ;  for  before  I  attended  your  ministry,  I  was  as  little 
acquainted  with  the  doctrines  of  the  new  birth,  and  of  jus- 
tification by  faith,  as  if  I  had  been  born  and  educated  in  a 
heathen  land.  Though  suflering  under  a  painful  sense  of 
sin,  its  present  heinousness,  and  the  future  punishment  which 
awaited  it,  yet  I  was  walking  daringly  forward  in  my  career 
14* 


322  REV.   JUJIN    SUMMERFIELD. 

of  vice  when  I  heard  you  for  the  first  time  from  Hebrews 
12:1;  my  feet  seemed  riveted  to  the  floor.  From  that 
morning  my  convictions  of  sin,  which  had  for  some  time  past 
been  occasionally  severe  and  poignant,  became  more  and 
more  frequent,  and  yet  more  and  more  terrible  to  bear. 
But  notwithstanding  I  had  become  a  more  uniform  attend- 
ant upon  public  worship,  still  I  did  not  relinquish  my  former 
pursuits.  Satan  was  yet  my  master  ;  and  though,  tlirough 
the  assistance  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  I  was  struggling  hard  to 
emancipate  myself,  my  immortal  soul,  from  his  destructive 
power,  yet  he  held  me  fast  bound  in  the  chains  of  sin  and 
death.  I  continued  to  walk  in  the  downward  road,  if  not 
with  equal  zest  and  delight  as  in  former  days,  yet  with  a 
more  awful  precipitancy,  a  far  greater  degree  of  desperation. 
On  every  returning  Sabbath,  however,  conscience  failed  not 
to  rise  up  against  me  with  renewed  strength,  crying  aloud, 
'  Turn  ye  from  your  evil  ways.'  But  so  deeply  fixed  were 
my  old  habits,  that  it  seemed  like  rooting  out  the  seeds  of 
life  from  the  ground  of  the  heart,  wholly  to  abandon  them. 
Nevertheless,  after  a^long  and  agonizing  struggle,  I  was 
enabled  by  the  grace  of  God  wholly  to  abandon  them ;  and 
though  I  cannot  to  the  hour  mention  Avhen  the  burden  of 
sin  and  death  was  removed,  yet  I  humbly  trust  I  can  say,  I 
know  I  have  passed  from  death  unto  life,  because  1  love  the 
brethren  ;  and  also  from  that  mysterious,  though  entire  rev- 
olution which  has  been  eflected  in  my  feelings,  my  senti- 
ments, and  my  pursuits. 

"  My  song  now,  day  and  night,  is  praise  and  thanksgiv- 
ing to  my  Redeemer." 

FROM  A  STUDENT  OF  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY,  PRINCETON, 
DEC.  4,  182*2,  NOW  A  MINISTER  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  EPISCOPAL 
CHURCH. 

♦  "I  should  do  injustice  to  my  feelings  did  I  not  take 
this  opportunity  of  thanking  you  for  the  kindly  interest  you 
have  ever  taken  in  uiy  spiritual  welfare.     I  shall  ever  have 


REMINISCENCES.  3:23 

reason  to  bless  God  that  I  have  heard  you  ;  for  it  was 
through  your  instrumentality,  under  the  blessed  God,  that  I 
was  lirst  led  to  turn  my  attention  to  those  subjects  which 
belong  to  my  eternal  peace.  It  was  under  your  preaching 
that  I  iirst  Avas  brought  to  see  my  danger  as  a  sinner  exposed 
to  the  curse  of  a  broken  law.  I  felt  that  I  had  never  an- 
swered the  object  of  my  creation,  the  glory  of  God,  but  I 
raised  my  puny  arms'against  the  authority  of  the  Most  High  ; 
and  the  language  of  my  heart  and  actions  has  been,  '  there 
is  no  God.'  You  preached  Christ  and  him  crucified,  and 
offered  a  Saviour  willing  and  able  to  save  to  the  uttermost. 
I  felt  my  need  of  such  a  Saviour,  and  as  I  trust,  accepted 
of  him  as  my  portion,  as  my  all  in  all.  I  am  now  a  pro- 
fessed follower  of  the  meek  and  loM'ly  Jesus,  and  have  de- 
termined, relying  upon  his  grace  to  support  and  strengthen 
me,  to  devote  myself  soul  and  body  to  his  service.  I  feel 
more  and  more  the  great  importance  of  the  work  for  which 
I  am  preparing,  and  its  awful  responsibility.  '  ^^  ho  is  sulfi- 
cient  ibr  these  things?'  I  trust,  my  dear  friend,  that  you 
will  pray  for  me,  that  my  faith  and  love,  and  all  my  Chris- 
tian graces,  may  be  in  lively  exercise." 


fro:m  a  lady. 


"  May  I  not  be  pardoned  for  the  peculiar  feeling  I  cher- 
ish for  the  memory  of  him  who  of  me  could  say,  in  the 
words  of  the  inspired  apostle,  '  Through  Christ  Jesus,  I  have 
begotten  you  in  the  gospel?' 

"  The  sketch  by has  brought  tlie  sainted  Summer- 
field  vividly  before  me.  AVell  do  I  renioinber  his  reading  of 
the  hymn  that  writer  reiers  to  ;  but  it  was  not  when  read- 
ino-  it  to  his  audience  that  he  invested  it  with  its  peculiar 
power.  The  influence  was  felt  when  he  quoted  it  in 
prayer.  After  having,  in  tones  of  most  earnest  supplica- 
tion, implored  God  to 


324  R  E  V .  JO  11  N    S  U  il  M  E  R  F I E  L  D. 

" '  Take  my  soul  and  boJy's  powers — 

Take  my  meraory,  mind,  and  will — 

All  my  goods  and  all  my  hours — 
All  I  know  and  all  I  feel — 

All  I  think,  or  speak,  or  do — 

Take  my  heart,  but  make  it  new.' 

his  whole  manner  would  change,  and,  in  the  joyful  exulta- 
tion of  assured  victory,  he  would  exclaim, 

"  '  Now.  my  God,  thine  own  I  am; 

Now  I  give  thee  back  thine  own  ! 
Freedom,  health,  and  friendly  fame 

■Conseorate  to  thee  alone  ! 
Thine  I  live,  thine  happy  I : 
Happier  still,  if  thine  I  die.' 

"  I  have  heard  Mr.  Summerfield  introduce  another  verse 
with  great  eOect,  in  the  following  manner.  Describing  the 
adoration  of  the  heavenly  host,  he  would  say, 

"  '  Worthy  the  Lamb  that  died,  they  cry, 
To  be  exalted  thus' — 

but  angel  powers  were  not  competent  to  finish  the  verse ; 
no,  it  was  left  for  man,  for  fallen  man,  to  complete  the 
stanza,  and  say, 

"  '  Worthy  the  Lamb  that  died,  icc  cry, 
For  he  was  slain  for  us .'' 

"  I  heard  the  first  sermon  Mr.  Suminerfield  preached  in 
the  city  of  New  York.  It  was  from  the  text,  '  Seek  ye  first 
the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness  ;'  and  it  may  be 
that  many  others  besides  the  young  girl  who  hung  upon  his 
words  with  breathless  interest,  can  remember,  that  while 
alleging  the  insufficiency  of  earthly  good  and  worldly  know- 
ledge to  yield  abiding  happiness,  he  spoke  of  the  pbilosopher, 
and  exclaimed,  '  Let  him  skip  like  a  mountain-goat  from 
star  to  star,  until  at  last  he  reach  that  great  luminary — let 
all  the  planetary  system  pass  before  him,  and  let  him  under- 
stand all  their  mysteries — let  Nature  stand  confessed  in 
luminous  simplicity,  and  show  those  things  which  now  she 


REMINISCENCES.  325 

holds  most  dear,  still  there  is  an  aching  void ;  for  though  he 
sees  a  God  without,  he  feels  him  not  within — still,  like 
Alexander,  though  on  a  diflerent  occasion,  he  would  weep 
tears  of  blood  that  there  was  not  another  world  of  science 
to  explore.'  That  first  sermon  had  an  electrical  efiect ; 
but  it  is  not  left  for  me  to  depict  his  triumphs  and  his  sway. 
He  did,  indeed,  sway  his  congregation  at  will.  W  hile 
preaching  from  the  text,  '  If  a  man  believe  my  saying,  he 
shall  not  see  death,'  he  introduced  part  of  Pope's  address  of 
the  dying  Christian  to  his  soul,  commencing  at, 

"  '  "What  is  this  absorb.s  me  quite  ?' 

and  when  he  came  to  the  line, 

"  •  Lend,  lend  your  wings;  I  mount,  I  fly  !' 

hundreds  of  his  audience  rose  involuntarily  from  their  seats  ; 
and  the  close  of  the  quotation  found  them  standing  on  their 
feet,  with  their  heads  inclining  towards  the  preacher,  and 
their  eyes  riveted  upon  that  youthful  being,  who  seemed  to 
have  naught  of  humanity  about  him,  save  the  fetters  he  was 
so  soon  to  di'op. 

"  Nor  was  it  in  the  pulpit  alone  that  this  mastery  was 
his:  his  social  life  abounded  iu  incidental  instruction.  I 
trace  the  vivid  appreciation  1  have  of  temporal  blessings, 
and  my  power  to  thank  God  Ibr  '  a  grateful  heart,  that 
tastes  those  gifts  with  joy,'  to  a  blessing  which  he  asked  at 
our  tea-table,  in  those  my  youthful  days.  He  said,  '  May 
we  receive  the  food  before  us  with  gratitude,  remembering 
that  all  these  common  blessings  are  most  uncommon  mer- 
cies, and  that  temporal,  equally  with  spiritual  gifts,  are  the 
dear-bought  purchase  of  the  blood  of  Christ.' 

"At  the  same  table  I  one  day  spoke  ungrammatically. 
He  corrected  my  error — we  were  but  a  family  party — when 
an  elderly  person  present  said,  '  If  you  are  so  particular,  I 
shall  be  afraid  to  speak.'  His  quick  response  and  apology 
was,  '  0,  you  and  I  were  born  in  the  last  century  ;  but  lor 


326  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

E there  is  no  excuse.'     And  there  was  none  ;  and  never 

since  that  time  have  I  said  '  learned,'  when  I  ought  to  have 
said  '  taught.''  He  was  cheerful  in  conversation,  even  to 
livehness,  abounding  in  anecdote,  and  exceUing  in  its  rela- 
tion. Well  might  any  one  who  w^as  admitted  to  familiar 
intercourse  with  him  say,  '  In  all  things  I  am  instructed.' 

'^E.  M.  B." 


FROM  A  LETTER  OF  THE  REV.  JAMES  TOA^^'LEV,  D.  D.,  LONDON, 
OCT.  20,  1825. 

"  I  am  well  convinced  that,  'take  him  for  all  in  all,  I 
ne'er  shall  look  upon  his  like  again.'  His  deep  piety,  unas- 
suming yet  most  amiable  manners,  micommon  talents,  and 
susceptible  mind  endeared  him  to  his  friends,  and  gave  an 
ardor  to  their  attachment  bordering  on  enthusiasm,  and 
rendered  him  the  object  of  universal  esteem  and  unbounded 
popularity." 


FROM  THE  POET  MONTGOMERY. 

"  Summerfield,"  says  Montgomery  on  reading  his  man- 
uscripts, "  w'as  not  a  man  of  every  day  ;  there  is  yet  fire 
enough  in  his  ashes  to  kindle  a  ilame  tliat  will  be  much 
lonjjer  lived  than  himself" 


FROM  THE  REV.  WILLIAM  NEVINS,  D.  D.,  BALTIMORE. 

"  Simplicity,  artlessness,  and  fervor  were  among  the 
characteristics  of  his  eloquence.  It  has  been  said  by  some, 
that  there  was  art  in  it :  if  there  was,  it  was  the  absolute 
perfection  of  art,  for  it  succeeded  in  concealing  its  own  ex- 
istence— it  was  the  art  of  nature,  if  I  may  so  express  it. 

"  In  conversation  he  was  often  brilliant  and  always 
interesting.  His  sweet  spirit  of  piety  diflused  itself  through 
all  that  he  said — but  the  pulpit  was  his  stronghold,  and  in 
the  simple  preaching  of  the  gospel  lay  his  great  talent." 


REMINISCENCES.  327 

RECOLLECTIONS   OF   SL^DIERFIELD'S   FATHER   AND    MOTHER  BY 
HIS  ELDEST  SISTER. 

"  My  father  and  mother  were  married  at  the  ajre  of 
about  twenty,  depending  solely  upon  the  talents  and  industry 
of  my  father,  ^y  mother,  by  her  economy  and  excellent 
management,  proved  herself  then,  as  in  after-life,  a  helj)- 
meet.  At  this  period  my  parents  were  not  members  of  any 
religious  body  ;  my  mother  had,  previous  to  her  marriage, 
been  a  regular  attendant  of  the  established  church. 

"  My  father  was  very  companionable,  and  being  fond  of 
music,  having  a  fine  voice  and  playing  on  an  instrument,  he 
was  much  sought  after,  and  consequently  became  ensnared 
by  gay  and  thoughtless  company  ;  indeed,  I  have  heard  my 
mother  say  that  she  felt  the  greatest  anxiety  on  his  account, 
not  knowing  what  the  consequences  might  be.  After  the 
birth  of  their  first  child  he  continued  to  spend  his  evenings  a 
good  deal  from  home,  to  the  great  discomfort  of  my  mother. 
When  the  child  was  about  a  year  old  the  smallpox  broke 
out,  which  made  dreadful  ravages  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Manchester  where  they  resided.  They  became  exceedingly 
alarmed  for  their  infant,  and  fled  from  the  town ;  but  on 
their  return,  after  an  absence  of  some  weeks,  their  infant  son 
sickened  and  died. 

"  This  day  of  sorrow  was  the  commencement  of  my 
father's  spiritual  career  ;  my  mother  said  that  for  a  time 
he  seemed  to  be  inconsolable.  The  evening  following  the 
interment  he  went  to  hear  the  Rev.  Joseph  Benson,  a 
Methodist  preacher  of  great  celebrity ;  and  under  the  power- 
ful preaching  of  this  '  man  of  God,'  as  my  father  always 
emphatically  termed  him,  was  the  great  and  decided  change 
efl'ected.  And  I  feel  privileged  to  say  of  my  revered  father, 
that  he  ever  manifested  himself  to  us  his  children  a  tried 
saint.  Indeed,  to  me  it  is  delightful  to  dwell  upon  the  excel- 
lences   oi   his  character.      His   attainments  as  a  Christian 


328  REV.    JOHN    SUMMERFIELD. 

were  of  a  high  order.     He  wtus  a  man  of  unceasing  prayer, 
and  almost  unexampled  self-denial. 

"  My  mother's  countenance  was  very  pleasing,  resem- 
bling that  of  my  brother  John  ;  her  eye  a  soft  blue,  her  com- 
plexion fair  and  delicate,  with  an  agreeable,  though  rather 
pensive  expression.  She  was  of  a  retiring  disposition,  yet 
firm  of  purpose,  with  more  discrimination  than  my  father, 
who  was  too  apt  to  place  unreserved  confidence  in  strangers. 
I  have  often  known  my  mother  to  warn  him  of  certain  indi- 
viduals, some  of  them  professors  of  religion,  and  he  was 
obliged  frequently,  to  his  sorrow,  to  confess  that  her  estimate 
of  character  was  astonishingly  correct. 

■"  After  the  birth  of  their  second  child,  my  parents  re- 
moved from  Manchester  to  Preston,  the  birth])lace  of  my 
brother  John.  In  this  place  they  resided  a  number  of  years, 
and  enjoyed  their  greatest  worldly  prosperity.  Here  my 
mother,  I  presume,  became  a  member  of  the  Wesleyan  soci- 
ety, for  such  she  was  from  my  earliest  recollection.  She 
was  a  most  devoted  mother,  in  the  common  acceptation  of 
the  term,  and  manifested  the  greatest  interest  in  the  most 
important  concern  of  our  being.  It  was  usual  for  my  brother 
John  and  myself,  being  the  eldest,  to  sit  with  her  some  time 
after  the  other  children  had  retired,  for  the  purpose  of  read- 
ing to  her ;  and  she  had  a  happy  way  of  arousing  our  inter- 
est on  subjects  for  conversation. 

"On  one  occasion  she  tried  us  on  the  subject  o[  faith. 
She  told  us  it  was  not  our  merely  asscntifig  to  those  things 
made  known  to  us  by  the  word  of  God,  but  our  so  believing 
and  trusting  in  them  as  to  guide  our  conduct.  She  would, 
in  the  most  simple  manner,  illustrate  faith  by  commenting 
on  my  father's  promises  to  us  his  children  under  many  and 
various  circumstances,  and  our  trust  and  confidence  in  his 
fulfilling  them.  She  would  urge  us  to  examine  ourselves, 
and  see  whether  we  did  not  more  frequently  honor  the  word 


REMINISCENCES.  329 

of  our  earthly  parent  than  the  word  of  God.  She  was  fear- 
ful that  the  reading  of  the  Scriptures  might  become  a  mere 
form,  and  tavight  us  that  if  we  would  read  with  profit,  we 
must  read  bcllcviiighj,  always  bearing  in  mind  that  'the 
mouth  of  the  Lord  hath  spoken  it.' 

"  At  another  time  she  asked,  if  I  were  very  sick,  and  as 
I  might  suppose  at  the  point  of  death,  and  my  father  should 
tell  me  of  a  certain  remedy  which  was  so  placed  that  by  my 
exertion  I  could  obtain  it,  I  should  so  believe  him  as  to  make 
the  eflbrt.  I  said  I  should.  Then,  she  said,  '  My  dear  child, 
you  must  have  full  confidence  in  what  your  heavenly  Father 
promises  to  do  for  those  who  love  him  and  keep  his  com- 
mandments ;  for  remember,  God  loves  you  much  better  than 
your  parents  arc  capable  of  loving  you. 

"  My  mother  was  of  a  much  less  ardent  temperament 
than  my  father ;  she  rarely  manifested  any  exuberance  of 
feeling,  and  I  think  she  had  not  such  continued  spiritual 
enjoyment.  Sometimes,  and  especially  when  her  health  was 
declining,  I  have  heard  my  father  endeavor  to  comfort  her 
and  strengthen  her  faith,  telling  her  that  it  was  her  privilege 
to  be  delivered  from  all  fear,  yea,  from  the  fear  of  death.  I 
think  her  maul  was  harassed  on  this  subject;  but  I  have 
been  told  that  she  obtained  entire  deliverance  before  she  was 
called  hence.  In  her  peaceful  death  my  dear  father  was 
peculiarly  sustained  and  comforted. 

"  In  the  management  of  her  children,  and  iu  all  her 
domestic  relations,  in  the  most  trying  circumstances,  she 
could  not  be  surpassed.  It  Avas  her  rule  to  study  the  pecu- 
liar disposition  of  her  children,  and  to  suit  her  instructions 
accordingly.  She  used  to  say,  in  I'amilios  of  children,  some 
may  be  dniioi,  and  some  required  to  be  drivoi.  She  would 
say  of  my  brother  William,  who  was  rather  dilficult  to  man- 
age by  those  who  did  not  know  him,  I  can  draw  him  by  a 
silken  thread.  Such  was  her  inlluence  with  her  boys,  that 
I  have  seen  her  beckon  to  them  when  with  a  dozen  boys  of 


330  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD. 

their  own  age,  and  in  the  midst  of  some  interesting  games, 
the  hour  having  come  for  Jier  boys  to  leave  the  play-ground, 
and  it  was  a  rare  thing  for  them  to  evince  the  least  dis- 
pleasure. They  had  been  taught  obedience  from  their  in- 
fancy. I  have  heard  her  say, '  How  thankful  I  ought  to  feel 
that  my  boys  are  so  docile  ;  they  promise  to  be  an  honor  to 
their  parents  :  if  it  were  not  so,  I  could  hardly  bear  it.' 

"  My  father  was  necessarily  separated  a  great  portion  of 
his  time  from  his  family  ;  sometimes  he  would  be  absent  on 
business  many  weeks.  How  I  have  seen  his  countenance 
lighten  up  on  his  return  home,  when,  in  answer  to  his 
inquiries,  my  mother  was  enabled  to  give  a  satisfactory  ac- 
count of  us.  Then  he  would  produce  some  little  memorials 
of  his  afiection,  and  handing  them  over  to  her,  would  say, 
'Distribute  these  as  you  think  best;'  which  she  would  do 
very  judiciously. 

"My  mother's  kindness  and  consideration  for  the  poor, 
and  particularly  the  sick  poor,  were  such  as  to  preclude  all 
thought  either  of  expense  or  trouble.  It  was  her  custom  to 
have  gruels,  soups,  and  other  nourishing  articles  of  food  pre- 
pared under  her  own  superintendence,  and  she  spent  much 
of  her  time  in  visiting  them.  She  was  greatly  respected 
in  her  neighborhood,  and  by  the  families  of  the  workmen 
in  my  father's  employ  was  much  beloved.  There  were 
twelve  families  on  the  foundry  premises,  to  whose  calls 
in  their  trouble  she  was  at  all  times  subject.  She  was 
much  respected  by  her  servants,  and  never  permitted  an 
luikind  or  ungenerous  expression  to  be  made  to  them  by 
any  of  us. 

"  The  Rev.  Thomas  Thompson,  alluded  to  in  the  Me- 
moirs, p.  120,  entered  my  father's  house  as  an  apprentice, 
and  I  believe  chiefly  through  the  influence  of  the  example 
and  instructions  of  my  parents  became  a  devoted  child  of  God 
and  a  useful  minister  of  Christ.  After  he  became  pious, 
according  with  my  mother's  desire,  he  always  dined  with  us 


REMINISCENCES.  331 

on  the  Sabbath,  which  he  considered  a  mark  of  her  deep 
interest  in  him.     I  beheve  he  sincerely  loved  her. 

"  When  I  was  about  eight  years  old,  my  father  had  a  very 
narrow  escape,  illustrative  of  that  special  providence  mani- 
fested to  such  as  '  magnify  God  in  all  his  ways.'  I  shall 
never  forget  his  manner,  when  he  related  his  deUverance 
from  the  jaws  of  death.  He  came  to  see  me  at  a  boarding- 
school  :  I  had  retired ;  he  came  into  my  room,  and  drawing 
aside  the  curtain,  seated  himself  on  the  side  of  my  bed.  He 
began  by  saying,  '  Ellen,  my  love,  you  will  praise  the  Lord 
with  me,  when  I  tell  you  what  a  mighty  deliverance  he  hath 
wrought  for  me.  Yes,  my  dear  daughter,  I  never  expected 
to  see  you  again ;  but,  bless  God,  your  father  is  again  per- 
mitted to  embrace  his  dear  children.  0  how  I  looked  upon 
you  as  orphans  I'  Here,  as  frequently  during  the  recital,  his 
utterance  was  choked,  and  he  wept  unceasingly.  Again  he 
said,  '  Pray,  my  love,  that  my  spared  life  may  be  spent  more 
to  His  glory.' 

"  This  perilous  situation  was  in  crossing  the  Lancaster 
sands,  which  is  literally  a  bar  of  qidcksaiid,  the  crossing  of 
which  ought  never  to  be  undertaken  without  a  guide.  My 
dear  father  was  not  fully  aware  of  the  necessity  of  this  pre- 
caution, and  his  business  being  urgent  he  had  ventured  to 
cross,  and  was  surprised  by  the  tide  flowing  in,  and  his  being 
surrounded  by  water.  Finding  it  impossible  to  proceed,  he 
made  an  efibrt  to  turn  his  horse,  but  found  that  the  noble 
animal  could  not  extricate  himself,  having  sunk  lower  and 
lower  at  every  plunge  for  some  time  previous  to  this  awful 
moment.  My  father  then  saw  nothing  but  death,  death 
inevitable.  'And,'  he  added,  'with  what  agony  did  I  bid 
vou  each  farewell.  0  how  I  wrestled  with  God,  while  poor 
Jack,'  his  horse, '  plunged  and  labored  for  his  master.'  About 
this  time  he  saw  at  a  distance  a  fisherman's  boat  ;  he  ob- 
served by  the  gestures  of  the  man  that  his  situation  was  all 


332  REV.   JOHN    SUMMEE.FIELD. 

but  hopeless  ;  the  fishennan  evidently  made  an  eflbrt  to  be 
heard,  but  this  could  not  be,  from  the  rushing  in  of  the 
waters.  Bj'  this  time  the  horse  had  sunk  half  Avay  uj)  the 
chest.  My  father  gave  himself  up,  and  throwing  down  the 
reins,  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven,  to  commit  his  spirit  into 
the  hands  of  Him  who  gave  it,  when  to  his  astonishment 
his  horse  made  one  mighty  efibrt  and  extricated  himself,  and 
by  degrees  was  enabled  to  reach  the  place  he  had  left  some 
hours  before.  '  My  first  act,'  said  my  father,  '  as  you,  my 
dear  Ellen,  would  expect,  was  to  dismount  and  kneel  before 
my  God  ;  and  if  your  father  ever  prayed,  it  was  then.  Mine 
was  indeed  a  song  of  praise  and  thanksgiving  : 

'•  'I'll  prui^^e  him  wliile  In/  linuls  me  breath.' 

On  rising  from  his  knees  his  attention  was  directed  to  a  small 
hut,  where  he  was  informed  that  they  had  observed  a  person 
in  the  quicksands,  and  consequently  had  in  their  own  minds 
consigned  him  to  death.  They  told  him  that  the  week  pre- 
vious a  carriage  had  attempted  to  cross,  and  every  soul  had 
perished. 

"  On  another  occasion,  on  coming  home  from  school,  my 
father  was  seated  with  the  two  youngest  children  on  his  lap. 
I  observed  one  of  his  hands  bound  up  in  a  silk  handkerchief; 
his  countenance  beamed  sweetly  upon  me,  but  I  saw  he  had 
been  weeping.  On  inquiring  what  was  the  matter,  I  was 
informed  that  he  had  that  morning  been  called,  in  the  way 
of  his  business  as  engineer,  to  examine  some  extensive  coal- 
mines. After  being  detained  below  for  some  hours,  he  as- 
cended one  of  the  pits,  but  was  so  overpowered  by  the  change 
of  atmosphere,  as  to  cause  him  to  faint ;  he  was  conscious, 
when  he  first  felt  the  sensation,  that  nothing  could  save  him 
from  a  fall  that  would  have  reduced  his  body  to  a  state  not 
to  be  recognized.  After  this  moment  he  was  lost  entirely  to 
himself;  and  when  he  recovered  his  reason  found  hiinselt 
extended  upon  the  ground,  surrounded  by  those  M'ho  had 


REMINISCENCES.  333 

drawn  up  liis  apparently  lifeless  form.  He  was  wonderfully 
preserved  by  the  twisting  of  the  ropes  of  the  bucket  in  which 
he  had  placed  his  feet  lor  the  purpose  of  ascending,  being  so 
completely  entwined  as  to  preserve  the  body  in  an  upright 
position.  It  was  by  the  twisting  of  these  ropes  that  his 
hands  and  his  fingers  were  lacerated  and  crushed.  He  was 
so  deeply  aliected  at  this  signal  instance  of  God's  goodness, 
that  he  could  not  advert  to  it  either  in  family  prayer  or 
otherwise  without  the  deepest  emotion. 

"  I  have  often  looked  upon  my  father  with  feelings  ten- 
derly alive  to  his  bereaved  situation,  after  the  death  of  my 
dear  mother.  He  Avas  left  Avilh  seven  children,  the  youngest 
an  infant.  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  there  are  few 
such  fathers.  He  was  invariably  the  same  patient  and  afiec- 
tionate  parent;  indeed,  bearing  astonishingly  with  all  the 
waywardness  of  us  his  children.  I  never  saw  him  out  of 
temper.  ^Yhen  any  thing  took  place  to  hurt  his  feelings,  his 
fine  open  countenance  would  be  expressive  of  grief,  never  of 
anger.  He  would  mildly  accost  the  aggressor  by  name,  and 
in  the  most  tender  and  touching  manner  say,  '  You  little 
know  how  you  have  grieved  your  father.'  He  used  no  chas- 
ti.sement,  but  Avouid  give  time  for  reflection,  and  then  by 
asking  pardon,  forgiveness  was  obtained.  1  have  seen  my 
brothers,  when  in  the  wrong,  solemnly  ask  my  father's  for- 
giveness, as  also  that  of  others  when  my  father  desired  it, 
after  they  had  almost  reached  their  full  stature.  It  was  a 
solemn  time  with  us,  for  we  all  participated  deeply  in  what- 
ever interfered  with  the  tender  feelings  of  our  only  parent. 
Perhaps  there  never  was  a  family  who  lived  more  for  each 
other  than  our  own.  Our  Sabbaths,  alter  the  harassing 
cares  of  the  week,  were  like  days  spent,  I  luul  almost  said, 
in  paradise. 

"  The  circumstances  connected  with  my  lirothcr  Henry's 
death  were  such  as  to  place  it  amoug  tlie  most  heart-rending 
trials  my  dear  I'ather  was  called  to  endure  ;  it  was  after  our 


33-i  .  HEY.  JOHN   SUJIMERFIELD. 

removal  from  Liverpool  to  Dublin.  Henry  was  a  fine  boy  of 
seven  years  ;  he  had  been  much  caressed  by  a  German  cap- 
tain, whose  vessel  lay  directly  opposite  to  the  house  we  occu- 
pied. The  last  day  of  his  life  he  had  dined  with  us,  and 
afterwards,  as  we  suppose,  went  on  board  this  vessel,  and 
probably  leaning  over  the  side,  fell  into  the  water  and  in- 
stantly disappeared.  My  father,  who  had  been  confined 
to  the  house  two  weeks  from  severe  indisposition,  had  been 
through  the  day  diligently  and  almost  uninterruptedly  em- 
ployed in  reading  the  Scriptures.  I  had  sat  in  the  room 
with  him  during  a  great  part  of  the  day,  and  he  several 
times  expressed  his  gratitude  at  the  prospect  of  returning 
health.  Sometimes  he  would  read  aloud.  His  mind  ap- 
peared tranquil,  and  his  spirit  sweetly  drawn  out  in  many 
remarks  which  he  made  on  his  reading. 

"  About  .six  o'clock  the  servant  called  me  out  of  the  room, 
and  informed  me  that  Henry  could  not  be  found  for  his  sup- 
per. My  father  hearing  her  report,  came  into  the  hall,  and 
inquired,  '  Jane,  what  is  the  matter?'  She  replied  she  had 
called  Master  Henry,  but  he  could  not  be  found.  I  remind- 
ed him  that  this  was  not  uncommon ;  that  it  was  early,  and 
that  she  ought  to  look  for  him.  My  father's  look  I  can  never 
forget ;  he  placed  his  eyes  upon  me  most  aflectionately,  and 
said,  'Ellen,  my  love,  you  ivill  never  see  Henry  again.''  I 
seized  his  arm,  and  imploringly  said,  '  0,  my  father,  how 
can  you  say  so?'  He  replied,  'You  will  never  see  your 
brother  again.' 

"  The  evening  became  very  foggy  and  unpleasant.  My 
father  exposed  himself  for  upwards  of  three  hours  upon  the 
water,  in  search  ol'  the  body  of  his  child.  Many  friends  had 
collected,  and  joined  us  in  entreating  him  to  give  up  the 
search.  They  endeavored  to  inspire  him  with  hope  that  the 
child  might  yet  be  living  ;  he  smiled  faintly,  but  showing  him- 
self painfully  firm  to  his  purpose,  returned  to  the  boat  he  had 
just  left,  and  remained  until. the  bat  of  the  child  was  found. 


REMINISCENCES.  .  335 

"  It  Avas  then  a  late  hour,  and  veiy  dark.  He  entered 
the  house,  and  heaving  a  deep  sigh,  laid  the  hat  on  the  table 
in  the  centre  of  the  room,  and  looking  with  mournful  afiTec- 
tion  upon  us,  for  we  were  greatly  afflicted  from  the  oldest 
to  the  youngest,  he  said,  '  There  is  your  poor  brother's  hat.' 
He  endeavored  to  soothe  us  ;  he  told  my  brothers,  two  of 
whom  were  fond  of  the  water,  that  he  trusted  this  calamity 
would  be  to  them  in  particular  a  solemn  warning  ;  he  show- 
ed them  that  their  accountability,  from  the  difference  of  their 
years,  compared  with  that  of  their  lost  brother,  was  such  as 
would  have,  in  their  case,  greatly  aggravated  this  heavy 
stroke.  He,  looking  up,  said,  '  Shall  I  receive  good  at  the 
hand  of  the  Lord,  and  shall  I  not  receive  evil  ?'  He  observed 
the  nurse  standing  in  the  room,  and  said,  very  kindly,  'Jane, 
will  you  send  in  tea?'  When  the  tea  was  prepared,  he  said, 
*  Come,  my  dear  children,  take  your  places.'  He  asked  a 
blessing  ;  after  a  pause,  said,  '  Poor  Henry's  seat  is  vacant.' 
After  tea  was  dismissed,  he  asked  for  the  Bible,  read  and 
prayed  as  he  was  wont ;  after  which  he  said,  '  Now,  my  dear 
children,  I  have  to  beg  that  you  will  go  to  bed,  and  compose 
yourselves  to  rest ;  and  God  bless  you.' 

"  I  have  no  doubt  but  my  father  passed  most  of  the  night 
upon  his  knees.  I  heard  him  in  great  agony,  when  he  sup- 
posed all  were  asleep.  The  next  morning,  between  four  and 
five  o'clock,  I  found  him  seated  at  the  window  of  the  room 
he  had  occupied  the  day  previous,  which  overlooked  the 
scene.  Tiiis  was  the  Sabbath.  I  could  observe  from  his 
countenance  as  he  sat,  his  head  reclining  upon  his  hand, 
that  he  had  passed  a  distressing  night.  After  anxiously 
watching  those  who  were  engaged  in  grappling  for  the  body, 
he  observed  Avith  a  piercing  groan,  'They  have  recovered 
my  poor  Henry ;'  and  walking  to  the  door,  waited  until  the 
body  was  borne  in.  He  accompanied  those  who  carried  the 
lifeless  form  of  his  interesting  boy,  and  assisted  in  placing  it 
upon  a  table  which  he  had  ordered  to  be  prepared. 


33G  REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIE'LD. 

"I  thought  my  father  appeared  soothed  after  he  received 
the  body.  A  friend  calling  at  this  time,  said, '  My  dear  broth- 
er Summerfield,  you  are  much  afflicted.'  He  replied,  'It  is 
a  dark  providence  ;  it  is  a  heavy  chastisement ;  but  I  have 
deserved  it  all.'  In  family  prayer  that  evening,  I  remarked 
that  my  father  thanked  God  that  his  mind  had  been  so  pre- 
pared to  meet  this  awful  dispensation. 

"  I  cannot  omit  saying,  that  my  father  was  almost  preem- 
inent in  Jtis  undeviating  devotion  to  the  sacred  Scriptures. 
His  conversation  had  so  much  of  the  spirit  of  the  gospel,  that 
it  was  delightful  to  hear  him.  His  knowledge  of  the  Bible 
was  truly  remarkable.  It  mattered  not  to  what  part  of 
the  book  reference  was  made,  he  was  familiar  Avith  it.  He 
greatly  enjoyed  religious  conversation.  In  company  with 
ministers,  however  eminent,  or  others,  he  would  generally 
be  among  the  llrst  to  introduce  the  subject  of  religion.  He 
had  a  happy  method  of  gliding  into  it,  and  it  would  inva- 
riably give  pleasure.  His  familiarity  with  the  Scriptures 
gave  him  a  decided  advantage  in  a  religious  discussion. 
His  memory  was  very  tenacious.  He  would  refer  with  re- 
markable facility  and  with  great  accuracy  to  the  parallel 
passages.  His  son  delighted  to  converse  with  him,  and  to 
obtain  his  views  on  intricate  points  of  Scripture.  He  highly 
valued  his  father's  opinions;  he  knew  that  he  was  skilled  in 
that  'divinity'  which  Luther  denominated  'nothing  but  a 
grammar  of  the  language  of  the  Holy  Ghost.'  My  father's 
habit  I  can  from  my  childhood  recollect  was,  to  read  and 
study  the  Bible  in  secret,  and  imicli  on  his  knees. 

"His  gift  in  prayer  was  also  remarkable  ;  so  varied,  so 
copious,  so  scriptural,  at  the  family  altar  and  elsewhere; 
there  was  little  or  no  repetition.  My  brother  invariably  gave 
place  to  his  father  whom  he  so  highly  revered.  Even  in 
company,  when  called  on  to  pray,  he  vi'ould  always  transfer 
the  call  to  his  father.  I  never  heard  him  pray  in  our  family 
when  his  father  was  present ;  but  how  often  have  I  seen 


REMINISCENCES.  337 

him  weep  under  his  father's  prayers,  especially  on  the  Sab- 
bath morning,  when  he  would  so  eloquently  pray  for  '  the 
lad  with  his  five  barley  loaves,  who  was  about  to  go  forth  to 
feed  the  multitude  with  the  bread  of  life.' 

"  During  my  dear  brother's  last  illness  at  Dr.  Beekman's 
in  New  York,  my  father  was  confined  to  his  bed  at  my  house 
in  Bloomingdale.  Their  final  interview  on  earth  was  on 
the  Sabbath,  the  day  before  my  brother  took  his  bed.  For 
one  month  they  were  separated,  which  was  very  distressing 
to  both.  The  family  of  necessity  were  divided  :  part  in  town, 
and  part  in  the  country.  My  lather's  presence  would  have 
been  consoling  to  my  dying  brother  ;  his  prayers  would  have 
borne  him  up  ;  but  this  privilege  was  not  granted  him. 

"  There  was  a  brief  interval  of  twelve  weeks  only,  when 
my  father  was  taken  from  us.  His  death  was  one  of  the 
most  triumphant.  His  sufterings  were  greatly  beyond  Avhat 
I  had  hoped  he  would  be  called  to  pass  through  in  the  clos- 
ing scene.  He  had  been  a  martyr  to  bodily  suffering  and 
infirmity  for  two  years.  The  last  two  nights  and  days 
which  he  spent  upon  earth,  little  was  heard  from  his  lips 
but  prayer — uninterrupted  prayer  and  praise.  Twenty-four 
hours  before  he  ceased  to  breathe,  friends  and  relatives  were 
gathered  around  his  bed,  expecting  every  moment  to  be  his 
last.  The  eye  had  become  dim,  the  countenance  fixed  as  in 
death,  when,  as  if  aroused  fi'om  sleep,  on  heai'ing  a  friend 
who  had  just  arrived  pleading  in  prayer  that  he  might  be 
permitted  to  hear  from  his  own  lips  the  testimony  of  that 
full  assura?icc  which  he  always  hoped,  should  he  survive 
my  father,  he  might  be  privileged  to  witness ;  my  dear 
father's  eye  assumed  a  peculiar  brilliancy,  the  first  words 
he  uttered,  at  the  same  time  extending  his  hand  to  his 
friend,  were,  'Jesus,  Jesus,  Jesus;'  his  friend  said,  'is  pre- 
cious?' He  replied,  'Is  precious.'  My  beloved  parent  look- 
ing around  on  his  children,  observed  how  we  Mere  aflected, 
and  said,  as  if  surprised,  '  What,  weeping?' — '  /  will   never 

SunuucrricM.  J  O 


338  REV.   JOHN    SUMMERFIELD. 

leave  thee,  7  will  never  forsake  thee;'  no,  'none  shall  pluck 
thee  out  of  my  hand.'  My  dear  father  said  to  his  friend, 
'Pray;'  and  afterwards  he  himself  gave  out  a  hymn,  and 
sung  with  great  spirit.  He  continued  through  the  night 
and  the  following  day  in  such  a  happy  frame  of  mind,  alter- 
nately singing  and  praying.  Towards  evening  he  began 
to  sink  rapidly ;  he  however  again  revived,  and  broke  out 
in  the  night  into  singing,  and  with  such  energy  and  power 
of  voice  as  to  be  heard  through  the  house.  He  sung  with 
ecstasy. 

"  "Tis  almost  done,  'tis  almost  o'er,'  etc. 
He  then  gradually  declined,  and  sweetly  slept  in  Jesus. 

"  'The  eloquence  of  death'  was  impressed  upon  the  face 
of  my  revered  father.  What  a  blank  did4he  solemn  event 
occasion  I  How  destitute  did  I  feel  that  as  a  family  we  had 
become  I  •  The  prayers  of  my  father  and  brother  had  now 
ceased  to  be  offered  in  our  behalf  But  when  I  again  looked 
vipon  that  countenance  radiant  with  a  smile  of  holy  triumph, 
permitted  in  the  very  article  of  death,  I  felt  constrained  to 
acknowledge  that  '  our  loss  2vas  his  eternal  gain' 

"E.  B." 
"  SuMMERFiELD  HousE,  Portchestcr,  Oct.,  1850." 


REMINISCENCES.  339 


REV.   JOHN   SUMMERFIELD, 


BY    WILLIAM    B.    TAPPAN.    ESQ. 


I  SAW  the  evangelist  of  God  ascend 

The  holy  place.     He  stood  in  the  beauty 

Of  meekness.     He  spoke,  and  on  my  heart 

Fell  accents  glowing  with  the  prophet's  fire. 

I  heard  thee,  mighty  one  ;  and  was  afraid, 

Yea,  trembling  listened ;  for  methought  no  voice 

Of  mortal  mould  could  thrill  my  bosom  thus. 

O,  sweet  as  angels'  music  were  the  tones 

That  breathed  their  Gilead  on  the  wounded  heart, 

Strengthened  the  weary,  bade  the  broken  come 

To  Siloa's  fountain,  and  in  faith  be  whole. 

I  wept  o'er  blighted  hopes ;  but  thou  didst  draw, 

A  willing  captive,  my  admiring  soul 

With  thee  to  brighter  regions,  where  the  dream 

Of  full  fruition  lives,  nor  is  unreal. 

I  feared  death ;  but  thou  didst  deck  the  foe 

In  lovely  garb  :  with  softest  beauty  clad, 

I  saw  him  beckoning  to  the  narrow  house 

Of  rest,  where  spicy  odors  balm  the  air. 

And  resurrection's  halo  crowns  the  dead. 

God  speed  thee,  favored  one.     Tiiy  diadem 

Is  wreathed  of  gentleness,  and  thick  bestrewn 

With  pearls  of  nature's  forming  :  they  arc  tean;. 

Yea,  tears  of  rapture,  holy  and  untold. 


PUBLICATIONS 


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D  Aubigne's  History  of  the  Reformation. 
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President  Edwards'  Thoughts  on  Revi- 
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Dibble's  Thoughts  on  Missions. 

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Harris'  Mammon. 
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Foster's  Appeal  to  the  YoMng. 
Abbott's  Young  Christian. 
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James'  Young  Man  from  Home. 


CHRISTIAN  MEMOIRS. 


J^"-.  Claudius  Buchanan,  LL.D.,  includ- 
ing his  Christian  Researches  in  Asia. 

Rev  John  Newton. 

Rov.  Henry  Martyn. 

Fi'V.  David  Brainerd. 

! ...     "  iward  Payson,  D.  D. 

Harriet  L.  "Winslow,  Missionary  in  In- 
dia. 


James  Brainerd  Taylor. 
Harlan  Page. 
Normand  Smith. 
Richard  Baxter. 
Archbishop  Leighton. 
Matthew  Henry. 
Rev.  Samuel  Peaice. 
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Sherman's    Guide    to    an   Acquaintance 
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Matthew  Henry  on  Meekness. 
Andrew  Fuller's  Backslider. 
Scudder's  Redeemer's  Last  Command 
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Burder's  Sermons  to  the  Aged. 


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Morison's  Counsels  to  Young  Men. 
The  Reformation  in  Europe. 
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The  Colporteur  and  Roman  Catholic. 


Mason  on  Self-Knowledge. 

Sherman's    Guide    to    an   Acquaintano* 

with  God. 
Divine  Law  of  Beneficence. 
Zaccheus,  or  Scriptural  Plan  of  Benevo 

lence. 
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POCKET  MANUALS. 


Clarke's  Scripture  Promises. 

The  Book  of  Psalms. 

The  Book  of  Proverbs. 

Daily  Scripture  Expositor. 

Ten  Commandments  Explained. 

Bean  and  Venn's  Advice  to  a  Married 

Couple. 
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Daily  Food  for  Christians. 

Chaplet  of  Flowers. 

Heavenly  Manna. 

Cecil  and  Flavel's  Gift  for  Moumeis 

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Diary,  [Daily  Texts  interleaved.] 

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Dew-Drops. 


BOOKS  FOR  THE   YOUNG. 

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Gallaudet's  Youth's  Book  of  Natural  The- 
ology. 

Peep  of  Day. 

Line  upon  Line. 

Precept  upon  Precept. 

Anzonetta  R.  Peters. 

The  Night  of  Toil. 

Legh  Richmond's  Letters  and  Counsels. 

Advice  to  a  Young  Christian. 

Madam  Rumpff  and  Duchess  de  Broglie. 

Charles  H.  Porter. 

Missionary's  Daughter. 

Scudder's  Tales  about  the  Heathen. 

Amelia,  the  Pastor's  Daughter. 

Trees,  Fruits,  and  Flowers  of  the  Bible, 
[9  cuts.] 

Elizabeth  Bales.    By  John  Angell  James. 

Nathan  W.  Dickerman. 

Grace  Harriet. 


Children  Invited  to  Christ. 

Narratives  of  Pious  Children. 

The  Dairyman's  Daughter,  etc. 

Charles  L.  Winslow. 

Withered  Branch  Revived. 

Peet's  Scripture  Lessons. 

Child's  Book  of  Bible  Stories. 

Children  of  the  Bible. 

Amos  Armfield,  or  the  Leather-covered 

Bible. 
The   Child's  Hymn-Book.     Selected  by 

Miss  Caulkins. 
Scripture  Animals,  [16  cuts.] 
Letters  to  Little  Children,  [13  cuts.] 
Great  Truths  in  Simple  Words. 
Clementine  Cuvier. 
Rolls  Plumbe. 
Pictorial  Tract  Primer. 
Watts'  Divine  and  Moral  Songs. 
With  numerous  similar  works. 


Dr.  Edwards'  Sabbath  Manual,  Parts  1, 

2,  3,  and  4. 
Dr.  Edwards'  Temperance  Manual. 
In  Geeman — 40  vols,  various  sizes. 
In  French — 12  volumes. 


ALSO, 


In  Welsh — Pilgrim's  Progress,  Baxter's 
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History  of  Redemption. 

In  Danish — Doddridge's  Rise  and  Progress, 
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